


Scarlet Renegade (On Hold)

by Rogue_Mutt



Series: Scarlet Renegade [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Mutt/pseuds/Rogue_Mutt
Summary: At the end of another neutral run, Asgore is dead and Toriel is anointed the new Queen of the Underground. Undyne has trouble coming to terms with her father-figure's passing and the disbandment of the Royal Guard. Overtime, she disagrees with more and more of her new queen's decrees until she goes one step too far. Fed up with what she believes to be Toriel's tyrannical rule, Undyne gathers a force of able-bodied rebels to form a rebellion to take the throne for herself. What results is a Civil war no one is prepared for, one with much dust spreading over both sides. Meanwhile, Sans and Papyrus are unsure whose side to take in this conflict, and their neutrality is soon discovered to be unable to last.The fate of the underground is in disarray, and no human interference will shape it's fate this time. What will happen to the entrapped kingdom of monsters under the rage of civil war? Who will lead the kingdom in it's time of hopelessness and who will kneel in their begrudging deference or lie as a pile of dust carried in the wind?Note: Due to several circumstances, series development is currently on hold. May or may not elaborate on a separate chapter.





	1. Life in the Blink of an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Will update and progress over time. Unsure of regular progress but possibly daily or three times a week. Tags may change as well as archive warnings, however is not planned anything specific. Continue at your own risk but thank you for doing so, hope y'all enjoy.

When Undyne first laid eyes on her king as a child, she was unimpressed and even more disappointed. Asgore Dreemurr, King of the mountain and the monsters trapped beneath it. She had heard tales of a massive beast with pale fur, long horns and eyes that pierced the soul. For the most part, the description was accurate, if not exaggerated. 

She met him in his throne room, watering a large garden of flowers while humming a gentle tune. Undyne didn’t utter a single word, fascinated by how unintimidating the king was. Eventually he had finally took notice of her, turning to reveal himself to her one good eye completely. She found he indeed had a pair of long horns and white fur, but his eyes could hardly pierce the soft fabric of her shirt, she thought. Though they were pretty and shined, they were different colors. His right eye was orange like sunlight, and his left the soft glows of blue water like she was familiar with in Waterfall. 

“Oh,” the king had finally said. “Hello there little one.” He smiled and she instantly felt a warmth of comfort wash over her like sunlight. 

Undyne stepped back, shocked and at a loss for words. She, along with the local infants she grew up with, had never seen the king in person. As a Boss Monster, he was said to be the most powerful monster in the underground kingdom and older than even Gerson, her elderly mentor. 

Yet looking at him then, she remembered feeling enraged. She felt cheated, having come to the throne room on a dare to the other children of Waterfall. Swearing to grasp both of his horns and return home triumphantly, she hadn’t expected the monster to appear so gentle and soft. 

At that moment, poking the lion didn’t feel enough for her. She wanted to best the lion and become queen of the jungle. 

She turned and left the throne room, vaguely recalling the king calling out to her as she fled, though she was too focused at the time on her newfound resolve to make out what he said. Since that day, she trained every single day, hoping to grow into the warrior that would best King Asgore Dreemurr. 

When Undyne became dissatisfied with her own rigorous training regimen, she took her frustrations out on other monsters. It became an addictive challenge for her after a while, fighting everyone she came across and proving she was stronger. Much to Gerson’s dismay, who hadn’t received the mail for months after his protégé “conquered” the mailman. 

Eventually, after a year of this, she thought she was ready to face the king. Just as she had a year earlier, she marched with confidence all the way to the throne room. Only this time, Gerson had decided to join her. When asked why, he stated he “wanted to see the show.” At the time, she had assumed he wished to watch her enviously claim victory against the king, unaware of how wrong she was. 

To this day, Undyne remembered exactly how she challenged the king. “Hey! Fluffybuns!” The nickname she heard Gerson refer to the king countless times, a name she thought was appropriate in her youth. When the king turned curiously toward her, she pointed her finger at him challengingly. “Fight me!”

Whatever was the proper etiquette for initiating a duel was lost to her that day, aside from when someone is supposed to yell “En Guarde!” during the fight. She did so herself as she charged after him, her magical blue spear in her hand. When she charged after him, screaming bloody murder at the top of her infant lungs, she assumed he would try to stop her. To hurl a ball of fire her way, move to intercept or even to catch the spear before it met home. 

What she didn’t expect was to lunge at air where her target was a mere second ago. 

It was a blur of movement she barely saw, so focused on reaching her target to register what had just happened. She hardly took the time to gather her wits as she lunged at the king again, who once more leapt delicately to the side away from harm. It seemed impossible for someone as massive as Asgore to move so swiftly and calculated, and seeing it made her furious. 

She stabbed, slashed, punched, and kicked after her opponent, howling in frustration each time they failed to meet their mark. When exhaustion finally got the best of her, she threw her spear after the king. He needn’t had to make any effort to avoid the attack, as it sailed harmlessly only a few meters ahead of her, bouncing off the flowerbed and rolling further away from them. She could swear she remembered Gerson snorting after that sad attempt. 

It was then that Undyne finally sank to her knees, staring at the king who looked back at her. He didn’t even strike at her, counter or do anything to hit her. In her eye, she had basically defeated no one but herself that day. 

It was the first time she could remember that she cried. 

Even to this day, she never remembered feeling so humiliated and defeated by anyone. All her efforts, her achievements and her victories, had been for nothing. Her hands covered her face, trying to hide her shameful display, her weakest moment. That day, she felt as frail as the flowers in the flowerbed. 

She stopped crying when, after a quiet while of her soft sobbing, a gentle paw rested on her shoulder. 

She looked up, still whimpering, at the gentle eyes of the king, who had humiliated her so. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “are you alright?” His voice was deep, powerful, yet soft and gentle. She couldn’t help but look up to him as if he were a father. He smiled, brushing one of the tears off her face. What he said next was the most shocking thing she could ever have imagined hearing. 

“Excuse me, do you want to know how to beat me?” He asked. 

After everything Undyne had been through, including her most recent experience, it was unimaginable to have heard the words her king asked her so innocently. How could someone so strong, so powerful, be so kind and generous? 

“Yes,” she said. “Please?” She wasn’t sure whether to add that in, concerned she might be overstepping his generosity. But he merely smiled wider and gave off a warm chuckle, to which she heard Gerson join in on. And then she herself smiled, thinking then having her butt kicked was the best thing to ever happen to her. 

It all seemed so recent in Undyne’s mind. Yet here she was now, attending the funeral of Asgore Dreemurr. 

She, along with the rest of the Royal Guard, a few close friends, a scattered handful of citizens and the newly appointed and widower Queen Toriel Dreemurr. The event took place in MTT Bistro, where the ceremonies occurred on the stage. Of course, the entire event was broadcasted, courtesy of Mettaton and his news and entertainment empire. The entire underground kingdom would watch the funeral, signaling their king’s sad departure from the world. 

For the occasion, as was proper custom, most attendants wore formal attire. Those closest to the deceased, including Gerson, Undyne, Papyrus, Toriel and a handful of others, wore what was supposed to be what the deceased was most familiar with. The idea was to say “farewell” in spirit to the departed soul, easing them in whatever afterlife they would drift toward. 

Undyne donned her armor, full-plate, the same suit she was gifted when Asgore first appointed her as Captain of the Royal Guard. Papyrus, her closest friend who stood by her side, wore his usual “Battle Body:” a plastic chest-plate, long-red scarf, gloves and boots along with a simple clip-on belt. Gerson stood head-bowed on her side as well, hunched over as if in prayer holding onto his safari-styled hat. She noticed he hadn’t spoken a word since the funeral started and wondered how close he was to the king. 

If it was anything like how close she was, then the loss would be tremendous. Even now, she fought hard not to cry, promising to herself that she would save it for when she was alone and only alone. Only Asgore and Gerson have ever seen her cry, and while she might have allowed Papyrus to see her do so if the time arose, she wasn’t prepared to share the image with the entire kingdom. 

The only one who didn’t appear so grief-stricken was the queen. Toriel Dreemurr, a name Undyne, and most other civilians, had long assumed to be dead. Yet here she was now, not long at all after her husband, Asgore, had been reported dead. Law stated she was the heir to the royal crown and new ruler of the kingdom. What kind of ruler she would prover herself to be, hundreds of souls waited eagerly to see for themselves. 

The funeral was to also serve as her coronation. Tradition stated that on the passing of each ruler, most of their dust was to be doused onto their heir or subsequent ruler, in order to pass on the strength and wisdom onto a new generation of leadership. Though the rest of the practiced funeral arrangements still applied: their dust would be spread amongst those they loved. 

Already, Asgore’s dust had been gently spread around the flowerbed in the throne room. Now all that was left was to sprinkle it onto the people he loved. Undyne and the others stood on stage while this took place, waiting for their turn to receive the bounty. First Gerson, who whispered something after receiving the dust before bowing and taking his leave, and then Papyrus, who looked like he wasn’t sure how he felt about the ceremony as a whole. 

Next was Undyne, who dreaded taking her next steps to the podium. The one who spread the dust and conducted the ceremonies was Snowdrake senior. Although probably not the first choice for a delicate event such as this, he was the only one aside from Gerson who was familiar with the proceedings. Several times he tried to lighten the mood unsuccessfully with his sense of humor, which many found to be in bad taste. A couple laughed but would immediately feel guilty after doing so. 

“Any day now, Ginger fish.” Undyne hadn’t realized she had frozen solid in place until Snowdrake addressed her. She felt a warm blush on her cheeks before realizing the mic hadn’t been on while she was addressed. She released a sigh of relief before stepping forward, ready to be sprinkled with the dust of her former master and father-figure. 

Father-figure. Up until then, she hadn’t really stopped to think about that. Asgore was always much more to her than a king she fought and bled for. She didn’t have any family to take care of her as a child aside from Gerson. And although he was a wonderful role model she aspired to, Asgore was someone she admired more. To her, he was her father. 

It took great effort for her not to cry, especially as she felt the tiny particles sprinkled over her like salt. Her fists clenched tighter and she wanted desperately to punch something as hard as she could. As tempting as Snowdrake was, especially after his earlier comment, she didn’t find it appropriate to do so. She merely bowed her head and joined the others. 

From her seat next to Gerson, Papyrus, and Sans, she watched Toriel step up to the podium. Snowdrake abandoned all attempts at light-hearted humor and made her repeat an oath, read from an old, dusty tome. Undyne didn’t pay too much to what the oath was, basically “I swear to serve my kingdom” this and “may these fancy words make me a queen” that. 

Afterword, the rest of the dust was dumped over the queen. A cloud of dust erupted while her eyes were closed. Her face contorted briefly as though she had an urge to sneeze, but refrained herself. When the cloud settled and a noticeable grey sheen was dotted all over her fur and clothes, everyone in the room bowed to their new queen. 

The rest of the ceremony was brief and forgettable. Almost immediately after the coronation, Toriel vacated from the room without another word. No one seemed to notice or care save for Undyne, who gritted her teeth at what she thought was a sign of disrespect to her former husband. But she mellowed as she thought maybe the proceedings were harder on the queen than anyone else. 

Eventually, the ceremonies were over. The only people remaining were Undyne and Gerson, who stood with bowed heads over the urn that carried the king’s dust.  
Eventually, Gerson patted Undyne gently on the back. 

“I think I’ll head back home.” He said solemnly. “It’s late and the shop’ll open soon. I’ll be there if you need me.” He gave her a firm hug, which she returned. His footsteps echoed along the empty restaurant, leaving her alone with the empty urn. 

And then for the second time in her life, Undyne cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wondered who would be the perfect candidate to host a funeral. I always thought it would be a priest or religious figure. But now I know a comedian is the most appropriate candidate. Also #GingerFish


	2. Wisdom from Veterans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know, or may be confused by chapter four, I've actually changed chapters two and three. I didn't like the approach, character description, etc. I wanted a second go, and I actually like how it's turned out now. I hope the change isn't too jarring for some, and otherwise I'd like to know what you think of the change.

Things didn’t get better after the ceremony. Toriel’s first decrees as the new Queen of the underground included an official ceasefire against the war on humans. Any human who fell into their territory would be greeted and treated as a friend, unless otherwise provoked or threatened. Which meant the Royal Guard was forced to disband. 

Most of the members beside Undyne were relatively mellow about the news, save for Papyrus. When he had to turn in his trainer’s badge, it was one of the most heart-wrenching things she had seen. Fortunately, Toriel allowed some leeway into the law, proclaiming the guard could remain so long as it abided by the kingdom’s rules and wouldn’t receive any government funds. He became fond of referring to it as his “club,” becoming widely popular among the younger crowds in Snowdin and other small areas. 

And here Undyne was now, sweeping the floor in Gerson’s shop. 

It wasn’t her first decision or career choice following her resignation from the military. In fact – dare she say – it was rather peaceful. That was the problem though. For years, she was engrossed and focused on a single task shared by others, an ideal that could only be realized when she, along with all the brave soldiers with her, worked every single day to achieve. Now that ideal seemed like a distant memory, so what could she do?

Eventually, Gerson caught her staring into the pool of water near her house in Waterfall. He instantly realized she had pent-up energy and offered her a job at his shop. She accepted, finding distraction from her recent complacency. 

Sweeping wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it kept her busy. Normally she wasn’t meticulous, in fact messy in her own home. Now she paid attention to every crevice and spot of dirt, sweeping it aside or wiping off stains with a clean rag. This distracted her for a little while, though the instances of messes quickly became too few and far between. Soon, she started making her own messes, just so she could tidy the place up again. 

While in the middle of another “campaign,” Undyne didn’t even notice Gerson enter the shop from the back. She was on all fours scrubbing with all the muscles on her arms, legs, and back, trying to remove a tiny stain on the floor barely the size of a scratch mark. 

“Been busy, have we?” When Gerson spoke, she finally noticed him, looking up while still scrubbing hard. She made a few last quick, hard scrapes to remove the stain, before standing up to greet him. 

“Yeah.” She answered as a wheeze. Her chest heaved inward and outward, exhausted as she was yet still eager to do more. “Just tidying the place up while you were gone.” 

He craned his old, leather-like neck to observe the nearly spotless shop. He grinned through a slightly beaked mouth, before turning back to Undyne. “For four hours?” She nodded, puzzled as she was unsure what the issue was. He shrugged, dismissing whatever objections he may have had. “Thirsty work by the looks of it. You can go on break if ya’d like.” 

She immediately shook her head. “No way! I still have so much work to do!” Her eye darted around the room, looking for some imperfection or task that desperately needed doing to prove her point. But the room was already spotless and in perfect order: the rock floors were swept and scrubbed, the shelves were organized into neat, symmetric patterns, and every item and even every cleaning supply had been polished into an eye-catching shine. 

Slowly, she realized she had done everything there is to do. Again. 

Gerson lightly chuckled to himself. “And you have much more time to do it at your leisure.” He gestured toward the back of the store. “Come, I just made some more Sea Tea. Ice’s gonna melt if ya don’t hurry now.”

She hesitated, but the temptation for the salty beverage was great. It was cold, salty, and the herbs always felt pleasant in her mouth. Her whole body always felt a wave of bliss after a cup or glass. 

Unable to resist any longer, she abandoned the cleaning supplies she was using and walked up to join Gerson. Satisfied, he smiled and walked slowly with her out at the back of shop. He reached beneath the counter and set a small sign at the top of the counter. “Be Back in 5 Minutes.”

The two sat by a warm campfire, each enjoying a refreshing glass of Sea Tea. As usual, Undyne enjoyed every sip of her drink, while Gerson seemed to enjoy more seeing her facial expressions. He took another sip of his own tea before starting conversation. “How’re you liking work so far?” 

She took another sip of her tea, already halfway empty, before answering. “It’s great. I love working with you.” She saw him raise an eyebrow at her suspiciously. 

“Really?” He asked. “Hmph. I wish I shared your enthusiasm. Out in the middle of nowhere traffic, selling junk that falls from the waste, not seeing any customers in maybe hours, days, or weeks.” He took another sip from his tea and smiled. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” 

Her gaze slid toward the crackling campfire, suddenly finding the dancing flames fascinating. She heard Gerson sigh. “You don’t need to lie on my account.” She looked up at him, about to protest and insist she did enjoy her work. But a raised hand stopped her from doing so. “Undyne, I’ve helped raise you for a long while now. Saw you help old grannies across the streams and beat up mailmen when you didn’t even come up to here.” He held his hand up to his kneecap. “You may have grown bigger, faster, and debatably smarter since then, but you’ll always have the same character. I know there’s nothing you hate more than doing nothing.”

She cracked a smile and snorted. He responded in kind, giving her a wide, chapped grin. “Truth is though, none of us like doing nothing.” He looked down at the campfire, seeming to admire the bright orange flames dancing around the air. “There aren’t a lot of monsters here,” He said. “and even still, the underground feels cramped and suffocating. The old ones remember the warmth and freedom of the outside, while the younger ones can only dream of what it’s like. It’ll never be as good as what you dream it to be, I can promise you that. But what else can we do? The barrier keeps us all together, trapped in this underground world.”

He gestured to the rocky background around them. “Nothing but shiny stones for stars and condensation on the ceiling for rain. A whole lifetime of it all, without any idea what any other life is.” He shook his head sadly. “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like, but it breaks my heart. How do you even occupy yourself with all that time?” His gaze returned to Undyne as he asked that question. “Life’s a precious thing; you only get one. Many people wonder what happens after, but I don’t know the answer myself. I do know, that life is easier, even when complacent, when you have people you love by your side.”

Undyne looked down, staring at the tea in her hands. She imagined his paws, Asgore’s soft, gentle paws, holding them tenderly. They were only specters of comfort. “Asgore’s gone.” 

Gerson slowly nodded, staring back into the campfire. “Yes, and I know you’re grieved by his loss. As am I, the kingdom, and Toriel.” 

At the mention of the queen’s name, Undyne looked up at Gerson. Her expression marked simultaneous anger as well as confusion. “Oh yes.” He responded to her expression. “She loved him dearly. Think what you will of her, but I know her better than anyone now, I think. She and Asgore both did things they regretted and said things to each other they wished they could take back. Now that he’s gone, neither of them can anymore. She never hated him, even if she thought she did. Who could stay mad at Ol’ Fluffybuns?” 

Undyne couldn’t help snorting at the mention of that nickname. Since she was a child, Gerson had almost always referred to the king by that name. And she still thought it appropriate. 

After laughing at the mention, he released a sad sigh. “Yes, Asgore is gone. The old has passed and the young carry out their wisdom. This is as it should be. I’ve seen too many elders see their successors pass away before they did. The most tragic thing in the world is probably for a parent to bury their child.” He took a long sip of his tea in deep thought. “As they both knew well.” 

Undyne realized he was referring to the old stories. The day the king and queen lost their only heirs in a single, tragic night. The king declared war while the queen disappeared, only to reappear decades later today after the king died at the hands of a human child. 

She tightened her grip around her glass. “It’s all my fault.” She said. 

Gerson sighed, shaking his head. “Undyne…”

“It is!” She barked reflexively. “I was supposed to stop the human. I was supposed to _kill_ the human. How could I ever think I could be friends with him?” The glass in her hands began to crack under her increasingly intense pressure. “I should’ve done something! I should’ve-“

The glass shattered in her hands, spraying the floor with glass shards and Sea Tea. The action startled her, having forgotten she even had the tea in her hands. She examined the palms of her hands, several scrapes now evident where tiny dust particles were billowing beneath them. 

Gerson creaked as he stood up. “I have a salve for that. I’ll go get it.” She was about to protest when he stopped her. “You’re a guest in my house. Let me treat your wounds.” He looked at the mess of glass shards and tea dotted around the room. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you clean up after yourself.”

She smiled and nodded. “Sure thing.” He smiled back and walked off to get the healing salve. When he came back, he held onto a flask with a red cross etched onto it. He knelt on one knee after brushing some glass off the floor and urged Undyne to hold her hands out. He popped open the cork of the flask, releasing a medicinal scent. 

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” He explained. He poured a bit of the fluid over her palms, stinging the scaled flesh but in a good way. “Rub them together for a bit til the medicine soaks in.” She did as she was asked, rubbing her palms gently together. Eventually, she lost the moist feeling on her palms, and Gerson nodded in satisfaction. He stood to return to his seat across from her, continuing his discussion while doing so. “Sparing him was a choice you made, just as him sparing you was his choice.” 

For some reason, Undyne immediately saw fit to argue that statement. “He didn’t spare me! He just ran away like a coward!” And she could tell the human was tough, easily dodging her attacks whenever she caught up with him. All that made it more unbearable that she didn’t get a good fight out of him, even if they did become friends later. 

Gerson only raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Would you have accepted if he did spare you?” 

Again, she felt the instinct to argue, to maybe say so much that she might’ve. But that sly look on his face told her he wouldn’t buy it. Worst still, he was completely right. He knew her like an open children’s book. Begrudgingly, she shook her head. 

“Thought so.” Gerson affirmed. “And for whatever reason, he probably thought so to. He ran away from you so he wouldn’t have to fight you. And, for whatever reason still, he came back, willing to make friends with you.” He snorted amusedly. “And I thought you had the most interesting character. Wish I had the chance to talk to him more before he-“

_Ding! Ding!_

Gerson was interrupted by a ringing bell. Both knew the distinct pitch coming from atop the counter. A customer was waiting at the stall. 

“Who on earth could that be?” He asked. 

They both got their answer before either stood up, hearing a loud, prideful “NYEH!” outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Flowey. I know it's a cliff hanger end to the chapter and you were dying to know who "NYEHed" upon entry. Spoiler, it was Flowey the Flower.   
> PS sorry for spoiling.


	3. Tra-la-la

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remade chapter 3. Hopefully this won't be a frequent habit, at least until the series is finished and I have to edit. Thank you to those who have barred with me.

“Hello!? Sheldon!? Are you home!” 

Papyrus’s voice rang clear as day from the waiting room. Undyne gave Gerson an inquisitive expression. “Sheldon?” It asked. He merely shrugged his shoulders defeatedly. 

“I’ve been looking for Undyne and she’s not home!” The skeleton continued. “It’s imperative I see her as soon as possible!”

The both looked at each other, shrugged, and got up. She turned her head toward the back door and called out to him. “We’re back here, bonehead! We’re coming!”

They made their way to the front of the store, when sure enough, there was Papyrus. She was surprised to see him out of his usual “Battle Body,” sporting instead a red sweater with the words “Cool Dude” sewn onto it. He beamed when he recognized Undyne. 

“Ah, there you are Undyne!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over you!” He hunched over and shrugged. “Or, at least I would have if I didn’t find you at the third place I looked. I must be spectacular at Hide-and-Seek!”

Undyne raised her hands up to slow him down, trying to understand what had him so riled up this time. “Woah woah, big guy.” She said. “What’s the problem?” She paused before adding, “And how come you came all the way here? Why didn’t you just call me?” 

He coughed politely as though embarrassed about something. “Erm, yes well… that’s actually exactly why I’ve been looking for you.” He saw the inquisitive expression on her face and continued. “You see, since the, ‘official,’ Royal Guard disbanded, Sans has been rather lax lately.” 

She couldn’t help but grin. “Isn’t he always?” She asked. 

Papyrus nodded in affirmation. “Precisely! I didn’t think it was possibly for a lazy man to act more lax than usual.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, he’s done just that. Worst still, he disappears whenever he does so. I can’t ever seem to find him for hours, even when he’s snoring close enough for me to hear. 

“Fortunately, I, the Great Papyrus, came up with an ingenious solution! I gave him a cellphone! That way, whenever I need to find him, I just dial his phone and voila! He picks up the phone and tells me where he is!”

Undyne couldn’t help but think on the fact, as well as probability, that Sans could ditch the phone or simply not answer it. She thought better of making the comment. Instead, she prodded him for what the heart of the issue was. “Okay, so what’s the trouble?” 

His eyes slid to the side ashamedly, but feigned innocence with a cough. “Erm, well, you see…” He kept coughing into his gloved hand as though coming down with a cold. Skeletons didn’t usually get sick, Undyne remarked. “I gave Sans my own phone, and now…” He paused for a moment and eventually shrugged. “Now I no longer have a cellular device.” 

So that was the issue, she thought. She crossed her arms and gave him a sly, amused expression. Gerson, who still stood silently next to her behind the counter, couldn’t help releasing a slight snort. 

“So…” She said to distract from the amusement she and Gerson felt. “You want me to beat it out of him or something?” 

Papyrus promptly shook his head. “No!” He thought for a moment, considering the offer. “Well, maybe some other time. But no! I just need a new phone! That’s all I need for right now. You gave me that phone in the first place. I was wondering if you knew where I could get another one?” 

There was a pleading expression in his sockets, staring at her like a child wanting a new toy. She smirked, remembering something Gerson had just said earlier: He may have gotten bigger, faster, and debatably smarter, but he still had the same character. 

“Sure thing, Paps.” She said. 

Papyrus beamed. “Wowie! Really!?” 

She nodded. “Yeah. Alphys’ll fix one right up for you in minutes. I’ll let her know we’re coming.” She pulled out her phone and stopped, realizing there was something she had almost forgotten. “But wait, I still have that mess to clean up.” 

But Gerson was already waving the matter aside by the time she turned to him. “Oh, leave it. You’ve already done a weeks’ worth of work by my standards in a few hours. Go on.” 

She smiled and nodded her thanks. “Thanks Gerson.” She turned back to Papyrus. “Alright, let’s go.” 

They were about to walk out when Gerson called out to them. “Hold on now!” They both turned to face the old shopkeeper, who was staring intently at Papyrus. “You’ve come an awful long way to get here. Wanna buy something on your way out?”

The skeleton nervously tugged at his collarbone. “No thanks.” He stated. “I’m… currently not carrying any money on me right now.” 

“Hmph, figures.” Gerson shrugged. “Worth a shot.” He dismissed that matter and smiled. “Run along now, go and have fun or whatever kids do these days.” 

Undyne bade him goodbye as they exited the store. “Let’s take the ferry this time.” 

Papyrus hunched over and pouted. “But I don’t like the ferry.” He complained. “I think the Riverman…” he paused, uncertain. “Riverwoman?” He shook his head in frustration. “That… person, is so ambiguous.”

Undyne flashed a dangerous smile his way. “Well I hate going through Hotland.” She explained. “Riverperson can speak whatever cryptic nonsense they want so long as I get to the lab as soon as possible.”

Papyrus still appeared hesitant. “Couldn’t we just, maybe…” He shrugged his shoulders. “Swim the river?” 

She paused, considering the idea. “Maybe.” It sounded like a good workout, more fun than swimming in circles in the lakes in Waterfall. Then a thought occurred to her. “Can you even swim?” 

He flinched, darting his head around as if searching for a way out. Once again, he tugged his collarbone nervously and gulped. 

“Let’s take the ferry.” He suggested.

~

Riverperson waited not far from Gerson’s shop, just a little stroll south of it. Undyne and Papyrus met a cloaked figure standing on top of a small boat, bobbing slightly up and down in response to the gentle tide. Water dripped from the ceiling, emitting a constant drip drip sound.

As they approached, the sound of singing became recognizable. “Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.” It was quiet, the tune almost in sync with the dripping water around them, Undyne realized. For as long as she could remember, the cloaked figure always sung this song. It wasn’t a complex or rigorous song, but she thought she’d prefer it to some dead silent, cloaked being taking her on a ride on a small, rickety boat. 

Finally, they came closer, and the hooded figure turned to them, as though noticing them for the first time. “Oh? Haven’t seen you two in a long while. Care to go on a ride with me?” 

Undyne and Papyrus firmly nodded. “Yes.” She said. “To Hotland.” 

“Ah, sure thing.” Riverperson replied in quiet delight. “Just try not to move around too much during the ride. This boat wasn’t made for three passengers. Tra-la-la.”

Papyrus gulped nervously. Undyne didn’t feel reassured by the Riverperson’s statement, despite how calmly they gave it. Still, she recalled the rickety rope bridge they would have to cross, waving precariously high above a sea of molten magma. 

She decided the boat was safer. 

She and Papyrus boarded the boat, rocking it violently as it tried to accommodate them. “Off we go.” Riverperson stated before their passengers were even ready. Papyrus held onto Undyne for dear life as the boat suddenly stirred and rushed forward with neither oar nor motor to drive it forward. 

She checked behind her to see if there was anything pushing the boat, or otherwise anything on the side. Nothing. The boat moved as fast and gently as if they were all rowing or was run by a motor. All the while, she noted, Riverperson kept singing quietly to themself.

“Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.” It was quiet, but the confined caverns carried their echo back toward Undyne loud and clear along with the rushing of water. Was the boat powered by their song? Made much more sense than anything else she could come up with on her own. 

Suddenly, without warning, the Riverperson said something mid-song. 

“An old king falls, and a new queen takes his place. But which one? Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.”

The transition back to their song was so seamless that Undyne almost thought she imagined it. She blinked a few times, trying to recall what it was she just heard. Something about a fallen king and a new queen, she thought. Then they asked which one. 

Weird, she thought. 

The rest of the ride to their stop was short-lived, but still awkward. She had was lulled by the gentle, monotonous tune Riverperson sang and was drowsing close to their stop. She snapped her eye open when the boat careened to a stop. 

“Here we are.” Riverperson stated. “You two come back again anytime. Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.” They resumed to their song seamlessly once again, not awaiting a response. 

Papyrus seemed to take that as an invitation to leave, which he gladly took. He stood up, shaking the boat as he did so, and hopped off. The boat violently rocked back and forth from his sudden departure, and Undyne held the rails tightly just to keep from falling into the river. 

When the boat finally regained balance, she saw that Riverperson didn’t appear the least bit disturbed. The thought occurred to her, perhaps, they would be content even if their boat was sinking and they were submerged in water. 

Eager to join her friend, she took her leave off the boat as well, leaving the ferryman to their song. She decided not to take the ferry home. 

Or never again. Either or worked for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, no tip? How do they make a living?  
> Also I lied, it wasn't Flowey. It was Papyrus.  
> PS Sorry for lying.


	4. Social Butterfly (Lizard)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for those of you who don't know, this chapter continues based off the remade 2nd and 3rd chapters. For those of you who aren't caught up, I suggest going back (sorry). The rest of y'all, hope y'all enjoy.

_Knock knock knock!_

Alphys heard a knock from the downstairs lab entrance. She grumbled, turning over in her bedsheets. “Too early for this.” She mumbled. 

There was silence for a while, and she was just about to drift back to sleep. 

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_

The knocking sound happened again, much more forceful this time. For a moment, she thought people were attempting to break into the lab, sitting upright with adrenaline coursing in her veins. Who on earth could be banging for dear life on her door at-

What time was it? She reached for her phone, rested face down. Her scaled hand grabbed it, looking at the screen to check the time. Her eyes bulged as she gasped. 

“One o’clock!?” She instantly remembered how in deep slumber she was, imagining it to be much earlier than it was. “How did I sleep so late!? What did I even do last night!?” 

_KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!_

Her attempt at recalling the previous nights events were snuffed out by further pounding on the steel door. It sounded across the entire lab area, like an earthquake rupturing the western door. 

“Who’s at the door?” She asked. She touched the screen of her phone again, swiping the code and starting an app. Instantly, she had access to the underground surveillance footage, dozens of images and scenes flashed at once on her tiny screen. She narrowed the image down to the camera just outside the western door. 

She gasped when she saw who was now violently pounding at her door. 

“Undyne!”

~

“Are you sure she’s home?” Papyrus asked. He gazed at the tall structure, seeming to find a lack of window an alarming flaw. “Maybe she’s out or having a friend over.” He hadn’t met Alphys in person, so he wouldn’t know what she did in her spare time.

“I don’t care anymore!” Undyne was wheezing, her chest heaving inward and outward while her breaths sounded like there was sand in the air she was breathing. The heat was making her rabid, almost bestial in her desperation for an escape to the dry heat invading her. 

She hated Hotland with a fiery, burning passion (pun not intended). The heat was a nightmare. At least in Snowdin, where everything was cold and frozen solid, she could alleviate the discomfort through rigorous activity and dressing warmly. Here, nothing she did ever seemed to help. Even without her armor on, everything burned. While she stood still, moved, sat down, everything blistered her scales. 

And the thirst. Undyne felt like she could drink an ocean, spit it out, then drink it again. She glared at her skeletal companion, wondering what made him so cheerful and casual in this hell-hole. Then, not for the first time, she seemed to only just notice his alarming lack of skin. 

He flinched at her glare, looking more worried for his well-being. “Uhm, Undyne?” 

She turned back to the steel door, seeing her reflection glaring back at her, mocking her. Her teeth gritted and her fists clenched. “Home or not, I’m getting inside and turning on the ffffff-“ She stomped her foot trying not to release that one word. Then all restraint escaped her like a broken dam.   
“FUCKING AIRCONDITIONER!!!”

She turned away and jogged to the center of the crossroads, getting some running distance. Papyrus’s expression was simultaneously puzzled and frightened. “Undyne, what are you-“ His question was answered before he finished asking, as she turned back around and ran toward the door as fast as she could. She screamed at the top of her lungs and he wisely leapt to the side, as far away from the steel door as he could. 

She was a few meters away when the door suddenly slid open. “I’m so sorry Undyne I-“ Alphys’s eyes bulged at the same time Undyne’s did. “Eeeeep!” She leapt to the side, narrowly missing the rushing bull. 

Undyne tried to stop, ending up tripping against nothing in the process. She was high in the air for a second, before crashing against the table. Papers flew in the air in mass, slowly descending into a heaping mess onto the floor. 

She groaned. The impact left her feeling dazed, she felt several bruises on her arms, and she was still gravely thirsty. 

But she was blissfully happy to report the air conditioner was on and already cooling her.

~

The afternoon following the chaotic impression was comparably pleasant. Alphys showed no sign of being displeased or frustrated her desk, papers and other items were a destroyed, heaping mess on the floor, nor the fact she was almost stampeded onto the ground. Instead, she rushed to Undyne’s aid, asking if she was alright and offering her water. The latter she eagerly and quickly gushed down.

Papyrus joined them inside the lab, peering at the interior and marveling at the technology. “Wowie!” He exclaimed. “This looks just like my house!” His sockets scanned the room some more. “Except nicer.” He brooded. 

Alphys smiled bashfully, shying away at the compliment. “Ah, i-it’s nothing. I w-wasn’t expecting company today, s-so it’s a mess r-right now.” 

Undyne gave a shameful smile. “I’m the only one who made a mess here, Alphy.” She turned to observe the mound of scattered papers and demolished furniture she had just made earlier. 

“Oh, n-n-no! No, not at all!” Alphys sounded quick to assure her guest she was not at any fault. “I n-needed to get a new table anyway and-“   
Undyne turned to look at her, giving her an apologetic expression. Alphys’s cheeks turned red and hastily turned away. “It’s fine.” She peeped. 

There was a long silence between them. “Wowie!” They heard Papyrus cry. “I’ve never seen such a dogfood enthusiast!” Both Undyne and Alphys flinched, interrupted by his audible observation. They turned to see what he was referring to. 

Next to a mini-fridge, there was a large, half-eaten bag of dogfood. “The Canine unit really love this stuff.” Papyrus commented. “Can’t seem to get into myself though. They invited me for to dinner one time and they were serving that in bowls.” He appeared uncomfortable thinking back on it. “They aren’t very… hygienic.” He turned back to Alphys with an encouraging smile. “You should invite them over for dinner. I’m sure you’d get along, so long as you scratch them under their ears.”

“Oh, I d-don’t eat that.” She replied. “It’s actually for-“ She froze midsentence, as if catching herself before saying something else. “I-I-I mean, it was a gift. A-a house-warming present.”

He turned back to the bag with a quizzical expression. “Someone gave you a half-empty bag of dogfood?” He asked. “As a housewarming present?”

Alphys hastily nodded. “Y-yup!” 

Undyne couldn’t help but notice the doctor was shaking uncontrollably, and an odor of nervous sweat become evident. Her nervous habit was showing; she never was comfortable in open conversation, either with friends or strangers. Yet when it came to virtual discussion, her charm came out naturally, even when using her voice rather than text. Yet despite the obvious difficulty it was, she was really trying. 

Undyne admired her for that. 

Papyrus’s sockets shifted to the side. “Well…” He looked uncertainly at the bag once more, humming to himself in thought, before turning back to Alphys. “Can I have some?” 

Taken aback by the odd question, she stuttered for several seconds before her response was understood. “Uhm, s-s-s-sure.” She released a quiet sigh after successfully getting her response across. 

As Papyrus skipped over to scoop a handful of dogfood, Alphys turned to Undyne. “W-what are you doing here?” 

She flinched. After the experience of the scorching heatwave outside, and the attempted breaking and entering (or more accurately, entering and breaking), she had forgotten all about their reason for coming here. 

“Actually,” she began to explain. “I wanted to know if you could make a phone for Paps here.” She pointed to the tall skeleton, currently crunching on a handful of dogfood. “He lost his old phone and I was hoping you could make him a new one.” 

Alphys, already seeming to be thinking several steps ahead, was slow to respond. She had been darting her gaze between upstairs, the mess on the floor, the bathroom stall door, and, occasionally, Papyrus munching next to the mini-fridge. Eventually, she seemed to have decided. 

“S-sure thing.” She said. “I-I’ll need to decide on a design for the phone. Figure out the coding, wiring and-“

“Thanks, Alphy!” 

Undyne leaned down to embrace the doctor, silencing her mid-sentence. It was a powerful hug, but her bruises made the effort uncomfortable. 

“Mphtank you!” Papyrus added with his mouth still full. He gulped with his non-existent throat, finally finished with his snack. “How long before you’re finished?” 

Alphys had to shake herself out of her frozen state. She directed her response at Papyrus, still with a blush evident on her cheeks. “A-a couple days, maybe.” She answered. “I’ve got a bit of work to do, but it s-should be easy to finish once I get started on it.” 

They both thanked her again, grateful for her help. 

The three of them decided to help with cleaning up after their “entrance.” Alphys gathered the papers and reorganized them, while Undyne and Papyrus took to picking up the broken furniture and sweeping the remaining debris. It took some time, but save for an alarming like of table, there was hardly any evidence of any recent accident. 

“Need anything else?” Undyne asked. 

Alphys hastily shook her head. “N-no, that’s fine.” She answered. “I-I’ll order a new table, l-later.”

Papyrus came up to her. “Say, you wouldn’t be a member of Undernet, would you?” 

Recognizing the name, she nodded. “Yes actually.” 

“What’s your profile name?” He asked. “When you’re finished with the phone, I’d like to friend you on there. We can chat about…” He furrowed his brows in thought. 

“Whatever it is we decide to chat about.”

Alphys stuttered profusely in response. “W-well, I mean… Th-that’s not, w-well…” She only barely composes herself enough for a comprehensive response. “Y-you don’t have to do that.” 

Papyrus firmly shook his head. “Nonsense! Anyone generous enough to provide the Great Papyrus with a new phone is surely worthy of being my friend!” He saw she still looked uncertain about the idea. “How about I give you mine instead? It’s coolskeleton95.”

A flicker of recognition showed on her face. “Wait,” she gave him a good, long look. “Are _you_ coolskeleton95?”

“That’s right!” 

Her flicker of recognition transformed into certain remembrance. “I know you!” She exclaimed. “It’s me, Alphys!” A confused expression met his face. “From Undernet!   
We’re already friends!”

Papyrus gasped. “Get outta town! Really!?” 

Undyne watched the two nerds talk to each other after their newly found revelation. She couldn’t help but notice her friend was talking much easier than normal,   
barely stuttering at all. Papyrus, she realized, had this certain knack for bringing the best out of people. She heard her laughing at something he said, to which he looked proud for. 

Wish I could make her laugh like that, she thought.

~

Alphys bade her two guests goodbye, shutting the door on their way out. She turned and leaned on the door, smiling giddily to herself.

“That was fun.” She said to herself. “I never thought I’d ever meet any of my online friends in real life.”   
It was nice, she thought. Knowing there was someone she was already familiar with and could talk to easily. She felt more open than she did in a long time. Not even   
Undyne made her feel more at ease. 

Undyne. 

Her cheeks flushed again, remembering the moment of warmth of her strong embrace. In her mind it was warm anyway; more likely it was scaly and cool with her fish-like anatomy. It was pleasant, nonetheless. 

Her eyes caught sight of the half-empty dogfood bag again. She checked the time on her phone again, realizing she was late in feeding them again. 

“Better hurry.” She said to herself. “They get cranky when they don’t get fed.” 

She rushed off to the bathroom stall, shutting the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what dogfood tastes like. If Shaggy can do it, it must be possible. I'll have to get a dog first though...


	5. Home to a Queen and Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not typically a Soriel guy (Goriel if you're curious), but I thought these events were appropriate. I actually really liked the prose I was able to put in here too. Hope y'all enjoy.

Toriel hadn’t gotten used to being back home yet. New Home seemed to greet her every hour with specters of people and joyful emotions. It got to the point where she spent most of her days secluded in her bedroom, reading books and novels she had forgotten long ago. Words, sentences, pages, simultaneously familiar to her yet an entirely new experience for her. 

But she couldn’t spend the entirety of each day locked in her bedroom. When her duties as Queen forced her to exit, she made sure she saw to them as swiftly as possible. Each time she looked out the front door, she saw her children frolicking by the leave-less, grey tree. Every time she saw the now vacant bedroom across from hers at the end of the hall, she saw her sick husband, for whom she spent hours hoping he would recover. 

Her family was with her at every step, haunting her constantly. 

Occasionally, a living soul dropped by, giving her an escape from her isolation. Mostly, it was Gerson, stopping by on his way to tend to the flower garden. When she Toriel had inherited her husband’s flower garden – among many other things – he had offered to take care of it for her. She wasn’t familiar with the proper way of gardening, so she was grateful for his help. 

Every day, he would stop by her home, call out a greeting, and head downstairs. One time, she asked him why he never took the elevator to the Throne Room. 

“I always like taking a stroll around the kingdom.” He answered. “It’s healthy for a fella my age.” He had suspiciously eyed her. “Why? You don’t want me to say hi or nothin?’” 

She had hurriedly assured him he was welcome at her doors at any time, and she meant it truly. Gerson was a dear friend to her, probably the only soul who she truly knew at this time. That was another reason why she secluded herself each day. 

Since the death of her husband, and her coronation as Queen of the underground, she felt like an outsider to all those who now depended on her. Technology had changed over the decades since she fled into the Ruins. Every so often, she would discover something she thought was a marvel of ingenuity, only to find it was a commonly used tool found in almost every household. She didn’t know anyone, and no one knew her. 

She was alone. 

_Knock knock!_

In the middle of her reading, Toriel heard a knock on the door, the front door. It was faint, only audible due to her silent reading session. Who could it be? It couldn’t have been Gerson, whom she heard pass by earlier on his way to his gardening. She was tempted to ignore it, returning to her time alone. 

Then proper etiquette and mannerisms won her over. She set her reading glasses down, stood up from her chair (Chairiel, as she called it), and stepped out the door. Transparent children laughed and chased after each other, who she forced herself to ignore. She arrived just outside the door, opening the door. 

“Yes?” She saw no one outside, then looked down to see her unexpectantly short guest. “Can I help you?” 

The stranger had a skeletal face, a constant grin on his face. He wore a wool winter-coat, despite the warm temperature of the region. His hand retreated to his coat pocket, a posture he seemed instinctively familiar with. A plain, white T-shirt, sweat shorts, and fuzzy pink slippers were the rest of what he wore. All in all, he appeared to be free of any concern in the world. 

Not the best way to present oneself to royalty, she couldn’t help but think to herself. 

In response to her question, he nonchalantly shrugged. “Depends.” He said. “Aren’t you the Queen?” 

Something seemed familiar about his voice, and she furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Yes…” 

The stranger grinned wider. “Aw, great.” He almost sighed. “Thought that guy gave me the wrong address.” He gazed at the white structure in front of him. “Buuut seeing this is the only house around here, makes sense you’d live here.” 

It was at the tip of her tongue, yet just out of reach. 

“Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself here.” The stranger apologized. He pulled his skeletal-framed hand out of his pocket and held it out in front of him. “I’m Sans, Sans the skeleton.” 

She gasped. She knew she recognized him! The stranger from before! It had been so long since they last talked, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it until now. 

“Oh my god.” She breathed. She held out her paws over her mouth, shocked and appalled the words flew so carelessly out of her. 

He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Come on, mi lady.” He teased. “Don’t leave me hangin.’” His arm shook in front of her as if to coax her. 

Toriel recomposed herself and gave off a polite cough. She reached for his hand to grasp it gently, ready to shake it. 

_Pffbtbtbtbttbfffftftftftftfft!_

An awkwardly long farting sound startled her the moment her hand held firmly around his. She recoiled in shock, worrying for a split second she had rudely broke wind upon meeting a stranger. That would be neither ladylike nor befitting royalty. 

She was relieved when he revealed a tiny Whoopi cushion strapped to his hand. “Ah, the ol’ ‘Whoopi cushion in the hand’ trick.” He explained. “It’s always funny.” 

After that, the strangest sound escaped from her: laughter. It sounded foreign to her, given the recent intense stress of her newly found duties and responsibilities. It felt like a long while since she had been able to act ‘normal’ in some way. 

She had forgotten this stranger was able to do that so easily for her. 

She took a breath before speaking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Sans.” She couldn’t help but release a few snorts after the recent humorous introduction. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, mi lady.” He replied. “Always nice to greet new people.” He said that as he unstrapped the Whoopi Cushion still attached to his hand and set it back in his coat pocket. “Anyway, I just came by to meet the new Queen. Wanted to know how she’s doin.” 

Her giggly mood faded, but she kept her smile. Though it wasn’t as wide or brimming with joy as it had been a moment ago. “She is alright. Much better now actually.” She couldn’t help but add that last part in. Up until recently, she hadn’t been in the best of spirits. 

Sans really could make her feel better in only just a few short moments. 

“Glad to hear it.” He said. “Say, if you’re not busy, I’d like to swap some more knock knock jokes with you sometime, like the ol’ days.” 

So he did remember me, she thought. 

He pulled out his phone. “Or we could call or text each other, if you’d like.”

She frowned. “Text” was one of the new technological terms she had only recently discovered. As far as she knew now, it was essentially sending worded messages via a cell phone. The most she knew was her phone was incapable of that. 

“Calling would be nice.” She answered. 

Sans smiled wider. “Great.” He said. “Here’s my number. I’ll call ya in a bit.” 

They exchanged numbers, adding each other’s names to their contacts. “Hey, your name’s Toriel, isn’t it?” She nodded. “Mind if I call you Tori?” 

She flinched in emotional pain, like a stab in the heart. All at once, warm memories flooded her of a family she once held dear and who held her dear. Yet all it did was make her feel horrible, inside and out. 

Sans seemed concerned by her expression and nearly frowned. “Uh, sorry. Guess Tori’s a bust.” He stopped to think for a moment. “What about-“

“No.” She interrupted. “Tori’s fine.” 

Sans raised an eyebrow, noticing her expression hadn’t quite changed. “You sure?” 

She smiled, though she felt it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes. I don’t mind, really.” 

He studied her for a good long moment, seeing if her words were authentic. Then he seemed satisfied. 

“Alright then, if you say so, Tori.” He said. He poked some more on his phone as though to add a note. “Mind if I take a picture?” 

She blinked in surprise. “A picture?” What was he talking about? Did he have a camera on him?

Sans poked at the screen on his phone a few times and held up an image for her. “Yup, to have as a profile image.” He explained. “To show me what you look like when you call.” 

There were several things Toriel had no idea what he was talking about. Words like “profile image” mixed in with everything else in a sea of confusion until the context was lost to her. But from what she was seeing on the screen he was showing her, it seemed to suggest it was a camera of some sort. A cellphone and a camera? That sounded simultaneously interesting yet redundant. Why would anyone ever need both on one device? 

She shrugged her shoulders uncertainly. “I guess that’s alright.” She still wasn’t quite sure what she just agreed to, but she trusted him. 

“Alright, let me just…” He held out his phone carefully out in front of him. 

Now that she played close attention, she did notice a lens at the top-left corner of the case. She realized he was probably prepping to take a picture of her now. Should she pose? What face should she assume? 

She decided to go with a formal, proper expression, maintaining a straight back with her arms held in front of her. She waited a moment, breath held as she waited for the picture to be taken. 

“Geez, what’s with that serious look?” He asked. “Come on, smile a little.”

And there it went again. She first broke into a smile, then snorted in her dignified posture. 

“Perfect!” She saw a flash of light erupt from his phone, the way she knew cameras did when the picture was taken. 

“Did you get it?” She asked. 

He peered into his screen, judging whether he was satisfied with the image. “Yup.” He held the screen up for her to see. “Check it out.” 

The first thing that came to mind had been “who is that smiling, happy Boss monster with a fancy gown?” She’d pass by her hallway mirror, catching her reflection on her way to and from her bedroom, and she looked nothing like that. So she thought. In the hallway, she was a queen buried with burden and responsibilities, while also haunted by memories of her lost loved ones. 

Looking at her on the screen was a cheerful woman who loved and was loved. 

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, patting it into place from the outside. 

“Welp, I should be headin’ out.” He said. 

He turned to leave and walked a few feet away from the door. Toriel called after him. “Wait! Would you like to come inside for some tea!?” The offer came out before her mind could consult the idea. She never even drank tea, only knowing it was some excuse to spend more time with this stranger who made her happy. 

“Nah, maybe some other time.” Sans turned her down to her disappointment. “I should head home; my brother will be wondering why I’m not asleep on the couch.” He turned back and waved goodbye while walking backward. “See ya, Tori!”

This time, the name didn’t hurt to hear. On the contrary, it felt almost relieving to hear, like a soothing lullaby she hadn’t heard in a long time. She bade him farewell as he disappeared down the hallway, out of sight but not out of mind. 

She smiled, shut the door and turned to return to her place in her bedroom. She was just about to open the door to her bedroom when she saw another specter. 

Asgore. 

Unlike usual, he wasn’t in the middle of any activity, walking by her or saying anything. He merely stood just across from her at the end of the hall, next to where his old, now vacant bedroom stood closed. She could see him smiling at her, but could tell it was a sad one. 

Did he look… happy? For her?

“Gorey?” It escaped her mouth without any warning. It sounded wrong coming out of her mouth, but pleasant and familiar at the same time. 

His ghost faded away before she could say or think anything more, as if he were never there. He wasn’t there. He never will be again. All that was left of him had been spread over her on her coronation. 

Toriel shivered, clinging to herself as though to comfort herself. She decided to shelter herself once more in the confined spaces of her bedroom. 

The door shut behind her, and she even locked the door this time. Now, she was alone with once more with her reading glasses, her books, her bed, and Chairiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry Toriel. I, Chairiel, will keep you company. Sit on me, and I will cure your depression.


	6. A Star's Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been the longest chapter so far, but not by any significant margin. It's been a long time since I had been writing fanfiction and posting them daily. It feels good, and better with all your feedback and support. Thank you to those who have left Kudos, comments and bookmarked this series. Anyway, let's get on with it.

Undyne had never been surrounded by so much girly stuff in her life. Stranger still, she had to stop and remind herself she was staying in Mettaton’s old apartment; she, as a girl, was commenting that a man had a feminine fashion sense. She was astutely aware of the irony of it all. 

Her home was still in repair after being burnt to the ground before. When she shared the news of her house situation with her neighbors, Napstablook offered to shelter her in his roommate’s old house. Course, with him, it came off as a sad, quiet wail.   
He was like Alphys, she noticed, only quieter, and perhaps more awkward. Maybe she could get the two of them together sometime, more for curiosities sake than any other reason. 

The vacant house once belonged to Hapstablook, the ghost who would later inhabit a robotic body and refer to himself as Mettaton. Six books were left in the home, marked as diary entries. Only about three of them gave any hint or semblance to actual diary remarks, the rest being simple notes on “adding another book to the collection.” It was a marvel to her that he saw fit to acquire six books only to put only a handful of sentences into each one, leaving hundreds of blank pages. 

Apparently, as she was able to gather from the entries, Hapstablook and Napstablook used to get along well. They even had a band together, with Shyren too. Despite the simple, enjoyable life, he wanted more – more than his spectral body could give him. One day, he met Alphys, who he found likable in spite of her nervous tendencies. At some point, she proposed constructing a body for him, a robotic one. She was to present him to the king as a machine with a living soul, and he could live out his dreams. He loved the life he had, but he wanted to expand his horizons even more. This house, his friends, his very name, he abandoned all of it. 

Undyne learned a lot about Mettaton when she moved to his old home, more than she thought she wanted to know. She didn’t used to like him – that it is to say Mettaton as opposed to Hapstablook – finding him to be vain and full of himself. He seemed to have an obsessive desire to own everything he involved himself in: real estate, television networks and shows, marketing products, magazine companies, it almost seemed to be his goal to have it all for himself, and he always made sure to let everyone know he owned what he did. But finding out his story and catching a glimpse of what he was like before gave her a different perspective. It was a story of trading one life for another. 

How did he feel about his experience? Was he glad he left this place to pursue his dreams? Or does he still regret his decision to this day? 

_Knock knock knock!_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Lying on the bed, she sat up straight and swung her legs to face the door seated down. Who could that be? Couldn’t be Napstablook; last time she checked, it was difficult to knock on a door with intangible limbs. Non-existent limbs now that she thought of it. 

The door opened before she could guess, and it was like the devil came when she was just speaking his name moments ago. 

“Undyne! Darling!” Mettaton greeted energetically. “Blooky told me you would be here.” 

Blooky, as the diary entries referred, was the nickname he used to refer to Napstablook. She thought it sounded cute and it suited the specter. 

“Hey, Mettaton.” She greeted back. Her eye scanned the familiar, cubical machine. Though he looked taller than he normally did. The reasoning behind it became instantly evident when he stepped inside, revealing his long, glamorous legs. They were equipped with heels and shined with an evident coat of wax. They made him look remarkably tall, taller than she was. Almost as tall as-

She shook her head before she could make the comparison. Not now, she thought. 

“What’s with the new look?” She asked to distract her near thought. 

The gaze of her eye implied she were referring to his set of legs. “Oh, these?” He lunged forward with his gloved hands on his hips, showing off his legs to their fullest extent. “After my fight with the human, people were raving about the reveal of my EX form.” 

That’s right, she remembered now. Watching the television, she saw the human fight Mettaton, during which he transformed into a more handsome exterior. She wasn’t into it herself, but he did look more capable as a fighter. He showed just that during the show, she remembered, admiring his form he maintained while still kicking ass. 

“Right now, that form has an inefficient energy consumption rate,” he explained. “meaning I can’t look so fabulous for too long.” He stepped forward with his lunge, now instead posing with his right leg extended is if in ballet. “But I checked the reviews for the show, and the audience rated these legs to be their favorite component. I checked with Alphys and she was able to make them a primary component to my regular form.” 

He began to make an elegant spin, landing with a flourish. “Now I can look fabulous and move with the same grace as in my EX form!” He beamed. 

She grinned, enjoying the sight of seeing him ecstatic. It was easier for her since she had gotten to know him through his diary entries. Now she found she could almost tolerate him. 

Well, maybe she could _just_ tolerate him. 

He turned to look around the apartment room, clearly feeling a nostalgic sense. “Boy, been a long time since I’ve been in here.” His mechanical body returned facing her. “Back when I was a ghost even.” He pointed at the pile of diary entries lying on the floor next to the bed. “I assume you’ve read those?” 

She nodded, suddenly feeling bad that she had looked into his private history. 

“Yeah, sorry.” She apologized. 

But he waved the apology aside. “Come now, I’ll have none of that in my place, darling. If I didn’t want at least _someone_ to know a little bit about myself, I wouldn’t have written it down.”

There was an awkward pause, neither of which raising another round of discussion. Undyne could hear the whirring gears and cooling systems roaring quietly from across the room. It was like listening to an old computer running. He finally turned to look to his right – the direction, she noted, where Napstablook’s house was right next door. 

“I didn’t mean to leave him behind you know.” He said. “Blooky, I mean.” He turned back to face her, looking like his usual self but sounding almost uncharacteristically hollow. “It told him he should’ve come with me. Surely Alphys could afford to make two bodies as the Royal Scientist.”

He rapidly turned side to side to resemble a shake of his head. “But he wouldn’t have it. He didn’t want to leave his simple, enjoyable life, and I decided to take that as him leaving me instead of me leaving him behind. I wonder sometimes, did I really want him to come with me? Or was I just looking for some excuse to go, already knowing I desperately wanted to?”

Undyne wasn’t sure what a sad robot would look like, but she assumed it would look something like the man in front of her. The whirring, gearing noises she was hearing before had slowed down, his arms hung downward and his cubical body leant forward as though hunched over. Yup, she thought. He looked rather depressed for a robot. 

Instantly he transformed into his usual, flamboyant self. “But enough about me!” He leapt across the room and sat on the bed next to her. His legs crossed and his elbow propped on top of his knee, now engrossed in whatever she had to say. “How have _you_ been, darling?” 

She scooched slightly away, finding Mettaton to be seated much too close for comfort. She then rubbed the back of her head embarrassingly. “Well, I’m still trying to make a living, I guess. And there’s the alarming lack of a house I currently have.” 

He gestured at the room they were seated in. “Well what do you call this then?” 

Undyne gritted her teeth and growled frustratingly. “No! It’s not… I mean…” She sighed, pulling the scarlet hair on her head to relieve stress. “I can’t crash here forever. No offense, but I can’t crash anywhere forever. I need to live on my own, and before I can do that, I need a job again.” 

Mettaton laid a gloved hand as though to comfort her. Though instead, she felt slightly unnerved by just how cold and firm the grip was, as though it might crush her shoulder at any moment. 

“Darling,” he said to her. “you don’t need a job; you need a career.” He waved his free hand in a flourish. “And before you can get one of those, you need talent. The more the better!” He pointed at her, the tip of his finger inches from her face. “And lucky you! You’ve got plenty of talents to choose from you little stud!” 

She recoiled from his praise, finding them uncalled for and much too flattering for her tastes. “W-what talents? I’m not… talented.” Aside from her uncanny ability to suplex boulders and throw spears at moving objects, she thought. 

“Darling,” he replied. “may I speak freely?” She couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t doing that already, then what on earth was he doing instead? Rather than ask this, she waved for him to continue. “You are an icon. A source of inspiration! People love and adore you the same way people are terrified by your raw strength and ferocious exterior!”

Now she knew he was showering her with thoughtless flattery. Anger started to swell inside of her. She stood up, teeth gritted with a glowing spear in her hand, summoned before she even thought to do so. She could see her reflection on the screen that was his face: she thought she looked terrifying, imposing and daunting with a menacing glower, glaring yellow eye, and pointed spear ready to impale. 

Apparently, Mettaton did not seem to find her so intimidating. “Oh, stop it, I’m serious, darling.” He insisted. “You were the captain of the Royal Guard for as long as anyone can remember. The only competent one if you don’t mind me adding, don’t get me started on those dogs.” He waved his hands, realizing he had been getting off topic. “People look at you, and what do they see? A passionate, dedicated, strong, righteous woman, dedicated to serve and protect the people of the underground!”

The more she started to hear it, the less like idle flattery it sounded. Which meant it could be genuine, which might be even more unbearable to hear. Too late, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, replacing her intimidating exterior into a sheepishly modest one. 

“See? And you’re a pretty good-looker too.” He added. “People love you. Children want to _be_ you. Ordinary people want to do kickflips and be cool like you are. 

Parents want to meet the fine people who raised you and ask for advice.” 

Parents? Technically, she didn’t have any. There was only Gerson and Asgore to-

His name came out this time before she could stop herself from thinking it. And right away, her blush faded, and she felt herself turn grey. She collapsed back onto the bed, lying on it while staring at the bright, pink ceiling. He’s gone, she kept thinking to herself in despair. 

He’s really, really, gone. 

It sounded almost impossible the more she thought of it. Not because as a boss monster, he was immortal and ageless, nor because of his remarkable fighting and magical skills, nor the fact he was king with an armed, loyal guard to protect and serve him, nor even the fact that he was so kind, so generous and lovable, not even the cruelest soul would want to harm him. It was because he was like a father to her.   
He had always been there for her. If she ever wanted to talk to him, have tea with him, chat on the phone or simply admire his garden with him. They couldn’t do that anymore. Asgore was gone. 

And she was still here. 

“Undyne?” She faintly heard Mettaton ask. “Are you alright, darling?”

She gripped around the edge of the bed, crushing a bit of mattress and bedsheets underneath. 

“Get out.” She growled. 

He recoiled in surprise, appalled by her grave tone. “Kicking me out of my own house?” He uttered a “harrumph” sort of noise. “That’s not very ladylike if you ask me. Keep talking to me like that and I might-“

“I said, get out!” 

She had turned her face away from the bedsheets, so her shout was clearly audible. Her eye was glaring at Mettaton, and unlike before, it was daring him to challenge her. 

A brief pause passed as he seemed to consider her state of mind, before he finally decided to release a sigh. 

“Alright.” He relented. “I can clearly see I’ve given you a lot to think about.” He stood up from his side of the bed and pulled out a card from his person. “I met every word I said, Undyne. You’re talented as well as popular, you know. I’d like to make you an offer.” 

He placed the card next to her and gently patted it on the bed. She managed to read from an awkward angle the words “MTT Studios.” 

“That’s the number for my office.” He explained. “Just tell them you’re name, and they’ll direct you straight to me. I’d love the chance to talk business, once you’ve… simmered down here.” 

He walked off toward the door, his heels tapping on the floor as he gracefully moved. He was out the door and turned to say a few parting words. 

“Toodles.” He parted with her before shutting the door. 

She looked back at the card, slowly grabbing it and holding it closer. It showed her a number to dial, to Mettaton’s studio as he told her. Obviously, it was a business proposal. Whatever he had in mind, this seemed like an interesting opportunity. And from the praise he was throwing right and left at her direction, it was likely a big opportunity indeed. 

But right now, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything other than the man who raised her who she would never see again. She crushed the number in her hand, tossing it behind her before grabbing a soft, pink pillow and burying her face in it. 

And into that pillow, she cried for the third time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Potato. I know you wanted me to go easy on Undyne, but I'm taking her on a roller-coaster of emotions.   
> ... that's not finished yet, but nevertheless, she's riding it and so are you.


	7. Project "Revival"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hard to believe I've written and posted so much in about a week. My plan is to take a break after chapter 10, which will probably be in another three or two days at the rate I've been writing. In the meantime, thank you all for your encouragement. Enjoy!

Toriel furrowed her brow, studying the documents that didn’t add up to her. When she started her duties as Queen of the underground, one of her first priorities have been to catch up on the decades of events and records in her absence. She found that events were simultaneously active and trivial. Most of the only significant events she recognized were the detailed ventures of six human children in several points in time. 

None of them even had a name registered, only the color of their soul when they died: blue, cyan-blue, green, purple, orange, and yellow. All of them, she recognized and remembered from when each first fell into the kingdom. To each child, she cared and nurtured them – loved them. Then they left. 

Then they died. 

Yet while these records troubled her heart dearly, it was not what had enraptured her curiosity. According the records in her hands, there was an unsolved epidemic from years before. 

Apparently, several citizens had gone to the “Fallen Down” state, when their bodies become unstable and on the verge of dying. Each of these victims were brought to the lab in Hotland, where they were treated for their symptoms. Dr Alphys, the Royal Scientist at the time and to this day, worked on experiments to remove their FD conditions. Eventually, she reported the experiments to be a success. Records showed she alerted their families that the monsters made a full recovery and would soon be fit to return home. 

A day later, she hadn’t sent the patients home, and she stopped responding to any messages from the families concerned for them. 

Toriel studied the document, hoping to find an answer to the puzzling scenario. She continuously found nothing but the same questions it gave her: What was Alphys experimenting with that could save monsters in their “Fallen Down” states? Why did she report the procedure a complete success only to go to complete silence a day later? And why was this entire procedure kept in the dark? 

_Ring! Ring!_

Her phone rumbled, distracting her thoughtful state of mind. She decided she might ask Alphys herself about this at some point later before answering the phone. 

“Hello?” She asked. She already had a good idea who was calling, and her tone was energized. 

“Heya, Tori.” Sans replied. She smiled and made a tiny leap in the air in excitement. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” She asked. It was tradition for the two of them. They first met behind the sealed door to the Ruins, when he began telling knock knock jokes through the door between them. Since they’ve reunited in person, they decided to carry out the tradition by greeting each other with a knock knock joke for old time’s sake. 

“Etch.” 

“Etch who?” She asked, eager for his response. 

“Bless you.” He said. 

A second passed for her to process the response, before she snorted and giggled. “Good one.” She complimented. 

“Thanks.” She could practically see him grinning on his line. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to meet for dinner.” 

She thought for a moment, humming to herself. “Where do you have in mind?” 

“MTT Resort.” He answered. “The place is nice, and I hear they have a new performer on stage pretty soon. Whadya say?” 

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. Dinner sounded lovely enough, but the resort seemed a bit fancy for what she was comfortable with. Too… romantic. 

Did she want that? Did she not?

“Yellow?” She heard on the other line. “Still there?” 

Caution to the wind then, she decided. “Yeah, dinner sounds great.”

“Tonight?” He asked. 

She thought for a moment then answered that would work for her. 

“Aight, I’ll make a reservation.” He replied. 

A long, awkward pause washed over their discussion. Toriel could hear the static crackling on his end of the line, and she wondered if he could hear her softly breathing on her end. 

“Uhm… hello?” 

A moment passed before she heard a response. “Yup, still here.” 

She smiled again and giggled. They never were good at deciding who was supposed to hang up. “So should I-“

“Nah, I’ll do it. See ya.” 

_Click!_

She heard his line disconnect. She hung up herself and set her phone down, still smiling. For some strange reason, she was compelled to turn around to look at the bed behind her. 

She saw two specters standing on either side of the bed. To her right, Sans, still grinning to some joke only he seemed to get. On the other side, Asgore, smiling patiently and encouraging at her. 

They both faded the moment she blinked, showing the image to be the apparition it was. She shook her head, focusing instead on the document she had been studying. 

Toriel recounted the events for perhaps the fifth or sixth time showcased in the records. It made sense the more she thought of it to keep the details hush hush. If the patients had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, so soon after the Dr had guaranteed their recovery, it wouldn’t look good on official record or to notify their family. Surely, there was a reasonable explanation. 

She stood up from her chair, wondering where she left Alphys’s number.

~

Alphys was giving intense focus to the colorful screens at her disposal. Seated on a comfortable bean bag, she watched Mew Mew Kissie Cutie, her favorite anime and reoccurring series, on her massive main monitoring screen. She did so while simultaneously checking and updating her profile on her Undernet page using her phone.

She was a mega-nerd, she admitted to herself. 

While briefly engaged in the minor updates to her blog page, the phone began to ring. It immediately showed Toriel’s name and waited for her to either answer or ignore while it continued to ring. 

“Uuugh.” She groaned. 

For several days, Toriel would frequently call her to ask how something worked. Whether it was how email worked, television, her computer, everything was completely new and foreign to her. At first, Alphys was glad to help her out, happy to help someone out with what they needed. But now the graciousness had left her in place of tediousness. 

She reached for the remote, lowering the volume of her show. She took a deep breath, removing her evident traces of annoyance, and answered the phone. 

“Hello Toriel.” She greeted. 

“Huh, hello Alphys.” She heard the queen respond. “How did you know it was me?” 

She slid her free palm over her face, stifling an annoyed groan. “I programmed y-your name with your number, s-so it shows your name e-e-everytime you call.”

She heard the queen gasp in fascination. “Really? That’s fascinating. Could you show me how to do that on my phone sometime?” 

Alphys saw the queen’s phone; it was a relic, a fossil that would possibly be better off in the dump or a heap of broken machinery. But it served its purpose in spite of this – as evident by their current conversation. She discarded the thought from her mind before she accidentally commented on it. 

“I-is there something I can help you with, y-your majesty?” She asked. 

“Oh, please, please, call me Toriel.” She replied. “And yes, actually. There’s something I wanted to ask you about.” 

Here we go, she thought. “Oh? H-how can I help you, your maje… Toriel?” She corrected herself. 

She heard papers being turned over and ruffled on the other line. It sounded like she was going over a large manual, or maybe a series of notes. This sounded like it was going to take a long time to explain. 

“Yes, I was looking over some records,” she began. “and I came across something I don’t fully understand. You were involved in a project called ‘Revival,’ were you not?”

Alphys gasped. That name involved a subject she was entirely unprepared of discussing. The project it referred to was a terrible mistake she made long ago and worked desperately to bury, both from others and herself. Flashes of emotional trauma, from herself and the patients who trusted her alike, resurfaced like the dead coming back to haunt her. 

Perhaps it would’ve been better if it really was the dead coming back to haunt her, instead of what it really was. 

“Alphys?” Toriel asked from her end. “Is something wrong?” 

Alphys realized too late her gasp was heard. She knew instantly that one, tiny little error on her part could’ve brought her entire life to a crashing halt with many people being hurt in the process. If she had just kept her mouth shut for only a moment, paused before feigning ignorance like she usually did, there might’ve been an easier chance for her to bury this terrible incident again. But she didn’t. She had gasped, which the queen had heard. And that was almost as incriminating, she knew, as if she had confessed right then and there. 

Despite this, she tried desperately to feign ignorance. “I-I-I’m fine, T-Toriel!” 

Panic quickly overwhelmed her, feeling her scales sweating bullets in disregard to the cool AC flowing inside the lab. The longer she stayed silent, she knew, the guiltier it made her seem. 

“S-so, about that p-p-project,” she managed to shakily say. “W-what does your r-r-report say?”

This was much easier when it was just letters and phone calls she could just ignore. Now she was caught off guard by the queen herself and had to defend herself on the spot. At least the discussion was made over a phone call; she had no doubt she would’ve cracked if the queen were here in person. If she had an idea what Toriel knew already, it might be easier for her to come up with an explanation. 

Or not. She hoped for the former. 

“Well,” the queen began. “according to this…” she trailed off, seeming to be taking another good look at whatever document lead to this interrogation. She spoke in detail the record she had in her hand. Afterward, Alphys nearly released a sigh of relief. 

The queen doesn’t know anymore than anyone else, she thought. She knew much more than she would’ve liked, but she at least had an explanation prepared on the grounds the queen had set. In case one of the family members arrived demanding an explanation. All she had to do was answer accordingly, pretending Toriel was just another concerned member of the family asking what was wrong. 

Suddenly she wondered how she thought that would’ve made things easier, imagining Mr Snowdrake asking her what became of his wife, forcing her to lie to his face. 

“Th-they were fully recovered,” she began, reciting her scripted explanation long-since memorized. “and I informed everyone the patients could see their families the next day. Only…” She paused, hoping the added silence gave her story emotional credibility. “The next morning, their conditions took a turn for the worse. I couldn’t find them the next morning, th-they were all gone. Their dust… was all that was left of them.” 

It hurt to recite that tragic scene, simultaneously because it was the truth and a lie. They were getting better, and they did take a turn for the worst only the next morning. Only they didn’t die, something else happened. 

Maybe if they did die, this all would’ve been easier, and she wouldn’t have felt like lying for the rest of her life. 

“I see…” Toriel said. A long pause passed and Alphys was sure the queen was catching on to her lie. “Thank you, for telling me the truth.”

Now she almost thought the queen _did_ realize she had been lying. Her grateful comment was too much for her to bare. 

“I…”

“It’s okay, I understand.” The queen interrupted. “You did your best, and you must’ve felt terrible after what happened.”

That at least was true. The pain was excruciating, enough for her to want to do something cowardly. She remembered lingering in the dump in Waterfall, gazing down an endless chasm beneath. What would have happened that day if she hadn’t have met Undyne for the first time that day? 

She tried not to think about it. 

“Is their dust available?” Toriel suddenly asked. 

Alphys flinched, not expecting this turn of events. 

“Uhm… y-yeah.” She hastily answered. Her heart was beating rapidly, threatening to burst from her chest. “Th-there wasn’t much to c-collect. S-sorry.” 

She was wondering if the queen bought that lie as well when she heard a grim sigh from the other line. “I suspected as much. Please gather what you can. Tomorrow, I would like you to contact their families and present them with what you can. I’ll be sure to fund whatever funeral preparations they see fit to host.”

She gripped her phone tighter so she wouldn’t drop it; she was shaking violently. 

“Y-yes, Toriel.” She replied. 

“Thank you, Miss Alphys.” 

_Click!_

The line hung up, and she never felt more relieved in her entire life. Then the stress of her situation quickly caught up to her before she had a chance to relax. 

“Oh god,” she said to herself. “what am I going to do?” 

She had to create fake samples of dust, hope the others would believe them to be the actual remains of their family members, and possibly watch their own hopes die after discovering after so long that their family members had perished. On the other hand, this was finally her chance to put all this behind her. After so long of isolating herself, hoping that it would all just go away, that people would stop asking what happened, this was her chance to stop all of it. 

But was any of that right? Was it right to comfort these families with a lie as opposed to giving them the tragic truth? 

The answer she told herself did not comfort her. 

Instead, she grabbed the remote and turned the volume up, louder than it was before. She became lost in the colorful noise of her anime but took no comfort from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat's out of the bag. It tore the bag it was in to shreds and now it's clawing and biting everyone around it.  
> Oops.


	8. Disagreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, there comes a point where there's been enough notes where there isn't much of anything substantial to add or any insight to share. Eight chapters in sounds about where that should be. Hope y'all enjoy.

“Everything alright, Tori? You look pretty distracted.” 

Toriel snapped out of her thoughtful daze. Her attention came to Sans, seated across from her at the dinner table. Out of her daydream, she could hear again the ambience of the crowded restaurant. 

She had to remember where she was and what she was doing: at the MTT Resort and having dinner with Sans. 

Her paw rested on her forehead and she gently shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry.” She still sounded unfocused, not entirely brought back from her thoughtful state of mind only moments ago. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” 

Sans took a sip of his glass of ketchup through his bendy-straw. The waiter had given it to him in a wine glass with a plastic bottle of ketchup to “drink.” There was a bendy-straw sticking from the ketchup so he may contend with the thickness of the sauce without spilling it sloppily all over himself. Whenever he ran low, he would squeeze the bottle to refill the glass. 

It was a repulsive sight and in poor taste, but he didn’t seem to mind. Even his choice in apparel showed how little he cared for common etiquette: a Hawaiian shirt with bright blue wildflowers, his usual sweat shorts, and a tattered brown fedora hat he hung behind his seat. Aside from the color of his shirt, it looked a lot like the one her husband used to wear. 

As painful and admittedly inappropriate as it was, she couldn’t help but occasionally compare the two of them. They were polar opposites; one had been muscular and massive while the other was puny and short; one would tirelessly spend each day while the other one seemed only barely able to get by. Despite their differences, they did have one thing in common: both could’ve made her laugh. 

She knew it was one reason she had been drawn to Asgore far back in their youth, and it was why she had lately been drawn to Sans. But with the skeleton, his humor was a shelter from all the pain and misfortune that had been eating her alive for so long. It dawned on her they didn’t take time for meaningful discussion yet. 

Sure, they’ve had plenty of good times and fun moments, ones she would eagerly have again and again each and every day of her life. But now, she was beginning to wonder if there was something else to the man that could draw her in the same way she once cared for Asgore. The fact that she was crushing on Sans now was undeniable, try as she might. 

But did she crush on him or the happiness he gave to her sad life?

“Tori?” She only snapped out of her daze again when she saw him wave a skeletal hand in front of her face. “Earth called, come back.” He said. 

She cracked a smile and giggled slightly. Then realized how she had reacted and frowned just as easily. 

“Boy, you really do have a lot on your mind, huh?” He said. 

He gently pushed his ketchup glass aside, scooted his seat an inch forward, and leaned forward with his elbows on the table and hands rested on his chin. “Talk to me.” 

His posture insinuated she now had his complete, unwavering attention. Whatever she said to him now would be taken seriously and without judgement. Question was, what to say to him now? 

It wouldn’t do to talk about the last thing that occupied her mind – for a number of reasons. Instead, she thought it more appropriate to explain her recent conversation with Dr Alphys.

She told him about their phone call made just earlier, about her hopes to clear up a misunderstanding she had concerning an undetailed record. What she had hoped to be a matter she would cleanly clear up turned into one that just gave her even more questions than she already had. 

“She sounded so nervous,” Toriel explained. “panicked even. Almost as if she thought I was accusing her of something.” 

“Sounds like her, alright.” Sans commented. “Don’t worry, she’s just shy is all, specially when it comes to new people.” 

“I’ve gathered.” Though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “We’ve talked before, but last time was different. She sounded…” she paused, trying to find an appropriate term. “guilty.” 

“Well, obviously.” He responded mater-of-factly. “I mean, the whole scenario sounds hush hush and classified to me.” His eye sockets darted side to side to check no one was listening, speaking now in a softer tone. “I mean, it’s gotta be tough for her, ya know? It’s not easy telling everyone you saved everyone, only to have to admit you were wrong just a day later. Those families had their hearts broken when their loved ones were dying, then they get a call tellin em everything’s A-ok.”

He shook his head as though overwhelmed by the scenario. “If they heard the A-ok turn to a ‘not-okay,’ it would’ve been rough.” 

Toriel sighed, conceding his point. “But is it better this way?” She asked. “To be told nothing; to not see their loved ones for so long, wondering if they’d ever see them again?” Her eyes drifted away. “To have faith that they were alive only to later be told they passed?”

Their conversation became swallowed by the restaurant’s ambience. Conversations entirely unrelated to their own swirled into an uncomprehensive mess around them. Neither of them was alone, but the crowd made it seem like the two of them were alone in their own little world together. 

Then, suddenly, Sans broke their little silence. 

“Why tell them at all?” 

Toriel had snapped out of her lulled daydream again. This time, she looked incredulously at her companion. 

“What?” She asked. 

He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, isn’t that why Alphys never told them in the first place? It doesn’t change nothin; the patients are still dead, no chance of getting them back, and now the families don’t have any hope for comfort.”

She stared in disbelief at him, adamantly stating his case as though he felt he had the moral high ground. What could possess him to think like this? This unethical way of belief?

“How could-“

“Beauties and Gentlebeauties!”

Whatever she was about to say was cut short by Mettaton, who she now noticed was standing proudly at the edge of the stage. Everyone in the room turned to notice him as well, several whistling and calling out his name in applause. 

“Tonight’s entertainment, besides myself, of course,” he mused. “is a newcomer to the MTT Empire! She’s a remarkable addition to our lovely-“

Toriel was able to drown out what he was saying, focusing squarely on Sans now. 

“How could you think that?” She asked. “To have them live every day living on false hope? On a _lie_.” The last sentence came out almost as a hiss, particularly the last word. 

He shrugged again, not seeming to understand her objections. “Isn’t that what hope is?” He asked. “A _lie_? Something you tell yourself to keep you going, even when you _know_ it isn’t true?”

She could barely stand to listen to him. This wasn’t the man she knew. He sounded like a different person this evening. Who was he? Where was the man who made her laugh and smile every time she needed it? 

Why was she so upset about it all? Wasn’t this what she wanted? Some insight into his point of view and who he was as a person? She was only just thinking to herself that was what she wanted; what she _needed_. 

Why did she almost despise him for it now?

“-without any further ado,” Mettaton’s voice came back into focus. “please welcome, Miss, Undyne!”

Sans flinched and turned his attention to the stage as a curtain was raised. “Undyne?” He asked. 

Toriel turned to the stage while the guests applauded, finally seeing a red-head of hair, seated in front of a large piano. It took a moment for her to register and recognize who she was, realizing it was in fact the former captain of the guard. She only met her once, but the young lady made a lasting first impression on her. 

And when the crowd’s applause died away, she made another impression, as she began to play the piano. 

_~_

Undyne felt dreadful. 

When she had taken up Mettaton on his offer, he neglected to mention her current predicament in the job description. She knew he was aware of her talent on the piano keyboard but didn’t think it would be the focus of her job. Unexpected still was how pampered and dressed up she was practically forced to wear. She hated her sparkling-red dress, the glossy red lipstick coating her lips, and the perfume the sprayed on her using a brand she could’ve sworn was poisonous. Her hair was brushed until it was almost as smooth as spider silk, long and flowing down the back of her head. 

When she saw what the mirror looked like, she fought the urge to smash it. But Gerson used to always say breaking mirrors meant seven year’s bad luck. Whether it was true, or he just wanted her to break less things as a child, it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Either way, she was stuck looking like a dolled-up super model. 

Undyne took her place on the piano chair, listening to all the staff tell her how wonderful she looked. Their compliments bounced off her like water over stone; she didn’t feel wonderful, and certainly wasn’t excited to sit and play in front of a crowded dining area. 

But no matter how she hated her situation, she was determined to see it through. She chose to be where she was now and to trust Mettaton’s procedure; it was only fair to see how it would end the first night. If she hated it (which she was thinking for sure that she was), that would be the end of their story. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she liked it, or if she’d even be able to stay if she somehow did. 

Mettaton was outside the curtain, wetting the audience’s appetite before the curtains were to be pulled. She could tell he was getting close to introducing her, bracing for when the curtains were pulled. She went over one last time in her head the notes to the song she was about to play, having memorized it after hours of rehearsal. 

This was only a “Trial Run,” as Mettaton had explained, meaning she would only be playing that one song. 

“Miss, Undyne!” 

As soon as she heard her name, her fingers gently rested on the keyboard in anticipation. She heard the staff pull the ropes to open the curtain. A piercing bright light rushed from behind, blinding her one good eye. The intensity was unexpected, and she shielded herself with the shadow of her hand. Everyone had been applauding to introduce her, which was now beginning to die down. 

Then more people stopped, until it was finally silent. She could see everyone staring at her, no doubt thinking what a total loser she looked right about now. Why couldn’t she move? She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the crowd staring right at her. 

“Don’t shade from the stagelights!” 

Someone had shouted quietly at her, from the staff. She turned her head toward the sound, finding a young monster who reassured her with a thumbs up. She did as he suggested and quickly lost sight of the guests, finding instead the bright light. The moment she stopped seeing the crowd, she began to calm herself, able to turn  
and look at her keyboard. 

She wanted to thank the guest, but the growing silence told her she had best get on to playing. She allowed a deep breath and exhale, preparing for her moment of triumph. 

Then she began to play. 

It was slow, at first, getting used to playing with the knowledge of a present audience. Then the tunes distracted those thoughts from her mind, and she was able to play at the correct rhythm. Some discussion began to resume afterward, eventually growing back into the sea of conversation taking place earlier. Though it was quieter than before, which meant there were people who were eagerly watching her play. 

That meant she was doing good, right? 

Her finger slammed on the keyboard she was about to press, completely ruining the tune for a split second. _Focus_ , she thought. She was able to recover swiftly, recomposing and adjusting as if the misstep had never happened. 

After a short time, she was starting to enjoy it. 

_~_

“Woah, never knew she played so good.” 

Sans was marveling at Undyne’s performance, soft and gentle. The tune reminded Toriel of a soothing waterfall as ambience, drowning out the negativity of everything else. She loved the tune, soft like rainfall. Not counting the “rainfall” found in certain parts of Waterfall, it had been a very long time since she experienced true rainfall on the surface. 

Despite the nostalgia, she couldn’t shake all the things troubling her thoughts now. Like the conflict she seemed to have with Sans. She despised what he was saying and hated how adamant he seemed to be with his belief. 

She tried to understand his point of view on the matter; she tried really hard to empathize with the man she crushed on. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to get past that rift caught between them. Even if his point of view were morally right, she knew it couldn’t possibly last. Years and years could pass – Alphys, and anyone else involved, could convince everyone that nothing went wrong with the experiment. One day, one of the family members could decide they’ve waited too long without an answer, investigating on their own. 

They’d find their dead relative, the tiny traces of what’s left of them. All that encouraged, false hope, would instantly transform into despair. 

She’d felt it all before, and she wasn’t willing to let more souls feel that same, agonizing pain. 

“You okay, Tori?” 

She faced the skeleton, noting the concerned expression on his face. His eye sockets stared at her with genuine worry, whether because he was aware of the conflict she felt or not. He was a kind, sweet man – she already knew this. And he cared about her deeply, whether romantically or otherwise. It seemed cruel for her to give up on him now, despite his misgivings. 

So, she decided she wouldn’t give up on him. 

“Yes.” She answered. “Just listening to the music.” 

He smiled, clearly satisfied with the answer. He joined her in focusing his attention to Undyne on stage. 

She really was remarkable, the queen thought. Her posture was poised and confident as she effortlessly played the piano with grace. Occasionally the crowd would call her name or whistle in applause, but she was focused entirely on her music. 

Finally, she was done. She pushed herself from the seat and stood up. Every guest applauded enthusiastically, several standing from their chairs to show their support to her performance. Toriel was one of them, smiling encouragingly. 

Undyne bowed, looking mildly uncomfortable from the applause directed at her. So modest, she thought. Her parents must’ve been very proud of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always enjoyed the subtle hints of character hinted at or portrayed in the actual game. Who remembered Undyne played the piano? Congratulations, you get a cookie.


	9. Dark Sense of Humor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another duration record broken. While making this, I pretty much just had fun with Mettaton's dialogue. He's a fun, flamboyant guy with a very 20s or 60s salesperson act (at least I find him kinda like that). Also, I've turned a potato into a cookie holder. Never thought I'd say that sentence.  
> Here's the story, enjoy.

The moment she was offstage, Undyne wanted to throw up. It was hard for her not to fall on her knees, and she gladly accepted a cup of water when one of the staff members offered her one. Although it wasn’t as hot as the main inland of Hotland, it was still too warm for her comfort despite the pleasant air conditioning. 

She saved enough of the water to splash the rest on her face, eagerly wiping off the makeup she wore. She worked using one of the mirrors backstage, making sure she didn’t accidentally make herself appear worse while trying to remove the makeup. Eyeliner and lipstick were dripping from her scales, forming a mixture on her palms of the color purple. 

It took some time and elbow grease, but she was finally satisfied that enough makeup was removed for her to feel comfortable walking around again. She’d remove the rest when she got home. 

_Ring! Ring!_

Undyne heard and felt her phone ring. She checked the ID of the caller: Papyrus. A photoshop image of him with a marble-statue body flexing his biceps while wearing sunglasses showed as his profile picture; his biceps were also wearing sunglasses. 

She smiled and answered the phone. 

“Hey, Papyrus.” 

“Undyne!” She heard screamed from the other line. “I was just checking my profile on Undernet, and people all over are posting videos of someone who looks just like you playing the piano onstage!”

She bit her lip. People were videoing her? She rolled her eyes. It’s Mettaton’s place; of course she was being filmed by somebody. 

“But she wore a sparkling red dress and heavy makeup,” Papyrus continued to explain. “so it couldn’t possibly have been you. I think someone’s out to steal your identity! Wowie! You must be so popular! No one’s tried to steal my identity yet, but that’s only because no one can even try to pretend to be as great as-“

“Actually, that was me.” Undyne confessed. 

She heard an audible gasp. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck embarrassingly. Then a thought occurred to her. “Hey, you said I was trending on Undernet?”

“Ah, that’s right!” He answered. “People have been talking about how amazing you’ve performed. It’s a shock to everyone the former captain of the Royal Guard is able to play the piano.” She noticed his odd pronunciation of the word piano: pie-ano instead of pi. 

“It’s actually a pee-ano.” She corrected. 

“Well, whatever!” He replied. “It’s no skin off my nose. Or any part of my body for that matter.” He hummed. “Also, I don’t have a nose.”

He gasped again on the other line. “Hey! We should form a band!”

Undyne blinked and adjusted the volume on her phone, checking if she had heard him right. 

“What was that?” She asked. 

“We should form a band!” He proposed again. “It would be you, me, and Sans!” 

She snorted. “You boneheads don’t even know how to play any instruments.” 

“Well, I don’t, yet.” Papyrus begrudgingly admitted. “But Sans plays the trombone.” She inhaled a breath of air to respond to that. “Don’t you dare say it! I know what you were going to say!”

She grinned widely. “What makes you think I was going to say anything?” She asked innocently. 

He sighed on the other line. “Because everyone does!” He barked. 

She couldn’t hold herself anymore and loudly giggled. It’s been a while since they’ve chatted this way. No business, no essential responsibilities or pressing concerns, just two friends making small talk. 

Undyne then thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to do this more often.

“Let’s do it.” 

Papyrus hesitated in his response. 

“R-really?” He asked. 

“Yeah! Let’s form a band sometime!” Her enthusiasm was making her jump a little. She hadn’t felt this pumped in a while. 

“Wowie!” Papyrus cried. “I’ll have to decide what instrument I should pick up!” She heard him hum thoughtfully. “And what will our band be called? And will we wear  
matching outfits?”

A pair of high heels came to her view, walking briskly toward her. Instantly, she recognized the pair belonging to Mettaton. 

“That’s great.” She hastily spoke to end their discussion. “Brainstorm on ideas. Gotta go, see you later.” 

“Skelebros and Gingerfish?”

_Click!_

She hung up the phone and frowned. Why did everyone seem to call her that?

She dismissed the idea and turned to her boss. In his regular, cubical form, he had no expression to hint at his mood or what he was thinking. Everything was in his hands, so much that she thought he’d be better off learning sign language. Whatever he thought had to be conveyed through his words and gestures. 

And right now, those determined whether she would keep her new job. 

“Darling,” he said. “you were wonderful tonight!”

Undyne released held breath and managed a smile. 

“I mean, you missed a few keys here and there,” he added to dash her pride. “but that was remarkable for your first performance. The guests loved you!” He stepped next to her and wrapped his arm around her, handing her a small pouch with his free hand. “Here’s tonight’s earnings, tips included.” 

She shook the bag next to her ear, hearing clinking coins inside. When she opened the bag, she saw several pieces of gold of varying values. She guessed there had to have been a hundred gold’s worth in the bag. 

“There’s more where that came from, darling.” Mettaton commented. “But we’ll have to do something about your wardrobe.” He stepped away from her and held his fingers in front of him in a box shape, appraising her figure. “The red dress is stunning, but is it really _you_?”

He tapped the monitor on his face while humming then shrugged. “We’ll find the perfect dress for you soon enough. In the meantime, I want you to go home and rest up. You had a wonderful night and now you need your beauty sleep.” His hand extended to pat her head. “Now off you go. I have to attend my own performance onstage. I always end the evening with a bang.” 

She smirked; knowing him, he meant it both figuratively and literally.

~

When she got home - that is, Mettaton's former home - Undyne opened the app Mettaton had her download: “Glamorous Appearance.” She followed his instructions, found a full-length mirror and used the app to film herself. Instantly, through the screen, she saw herself wearing a beautiful red dress. 

He explained to her the app would allow monsters to simulate the image of his company’s garments, helping them decide which they should wear. She was assigned with finding a dress she liked, which was to be her signature wear starting tomorrow night. 

There was a color-filter to change the color of the dress. She scrolled the wheel and instantly her dress became a dark-green. She winced. 

It was going to take a while to find something she liked.

~

“So, did ya have fun?” Sans asked.  
Toriel and her date were stepping out of MTT Resort through the northern exit into the Core. They were standing in the elevator while it was taking them to the higher floor just before the elevator to New Home. The queen smiled thoughtfully at his question.

“Yes.” She answered. “I enjoyed our time together.” 

The elevator stopped and they both stepped out. They continued through the Core until they arrived at the next elevator, this one a longer trip up than the other one. The two of them stood while the elevator hummed and vibrated for a long time, the silence becoming awkward between them. 

Finally, he spoke again. “Sorry.” 

She turned in surprise at his apology. “What for?” She asked. She hoped he wasn’t upset at their discussion. Their debate on the morality of the Revival incident she brought up was still fresh in her mind, but it didn’t bother her that much anymore. 

“Back before, when I asked you your name,” he explained. “I thought you were just having a dark sense of humor.”

She thought for a moment, recalling what he was referring to. Before they met in person, when they only communicated through the sealed door between Snowdin and the Ruins, she remembered him asking her name. They had been meeting each other for several weeks before he had even asked. 

_“My name is Toriel Dreemurr.”_ She had answered. 

He became silent after that. He commented he didn’t know she had such a dark sense of humor. When she asked what he meant by that, she finally discovered how isolated she really made herself. 

_“That’s alright,”_ she remembered him saying. _“it happened a long while ago. But… Queen Toriel Dreemurr is dead.”_ She could still hear her heart stop right after she heard that. _“Yeah, don’t remember the details myself. Happened around the time the war on humanity started, I think. There were funerals and everything in the royal garden. Like I said, it happened a long time ago. You’d have to ask someone like Gerson for more details.”_

Things weren’t quite the same between them after that revelation. The next day, she barely spoke a word on their next meeting. It was when she asked him to make a promise for her. 

“Thank you.” She suddenly said. 

Now it was Sans’s turn to appear confused. 

“For what?” He asked. 

She smiled in comfort down at him. “For keeping him safe.”

Realization dawned on him and he shrugged modestly. “It was no problem.” He replied. “Actually, he was a good kid, made plenty of friends. He seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.” He turned to look at her and gave her a sly smile. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, did you?”

She giggled modestly. “Maybe.” She answered ambiguously. 

But she too knew he was a good child. Now he was safe out of the underground, hopefully making it home where he would live a long, happy life. 

_Ding!_

The elevator stopped and opened. 

“This your stop?” Sans asked. 

She felt disappointed at the question. “You aren’t coming with me?”

He shook his head. “Nah, not tonight. I should really get home before Paps gets too cranky.”

She nodded her understanding and they said goodbye to one another. The elevator shut again and she heard it going back down where they came from. As usual, once he was gone her mood changed back to her grey, almost pessimistic aura. 

The walk home was a blur controlled solely by muscle memory, as she was distracted mostly by echoes of the past. Frolicking children, nose-nuzzling husbands, and joy she found foreign to her now. She barely even realized she had come home until she opened the door to her bedroom, the creaking door snapping her from her distracted daydreaming. 

She collapsed onto her bed, choking her for a moment with what she knew was dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find this to be an improvement from what it was before. It used to be so many words that ultimately said nothing, now it's few words that say something. I think anyway. Hope everyone else isn't upset about the sudden change. It won't happen frequently before editing, I swear


	10. Burn the Pain Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My time here has been a very humbling experience so far. After less than ten chapters (until now, obviously), this series has attributed more than a hundred hits and ten Kudos. The numbers are inconsequential when comparing to the artistic masterpieces like FINAGLC or others, but the fact I earned them through hard work and dedication means a lot to me. Thank you to all those who have stuck with me and encourage me to keep going.  
> I'm going to go on hiatus for a few days, take a break from the rate of writing I've been going on for about a week now. Since you've made it this far, I'm very curious. What was it that kept you going this far? Was there a hook that stuck to you in the summary? The first chapter? The opening line? Let me know in the comments below if you'd like. Anyway, let's get on with it.

Toriel couldn’t sleep. There were many reasons why: her bed didn’t feel comfortable and she overheated before she could drift to sleep, her mind was still restless after her discussion with Sans earlier that evening, and she could swear she could hear the ghosts outside her bedroom. 

_“There you are children. Where were…”_ She had heard her own voice gasp. _“Chara? What happened?”_

_“It’s okay, mom, dad… I’m fine.”_

_“Human, please, you are the future of our race. Chara, stay determined!”_

_“Mom, dad, please, leave me alone with Chara for a minute.”_

_“Chara! Asriel! Where did you go!”_

_“Wait! Asriel! Don’t cross the barrier! Wait!”_

_“Dear God… My children…”_

Asgore had embraced her after they had seen their children leave them forever. He told her, he _promised_ her that their son would come back home. That everything was going to be alright. 

_“Mom…? Dad…?”_

He lied to her. 

_“Asriel? What happened?”_

He _lied_ to her.

_“Is that… blood? Oh God, there’s so much…”_

He lied to her about her own children. 

_“It’s okay… I’m home now… we’re… home…”_

He turned into dust with a smile on his face, all over the flowergarden. Both of her children were dead right in front of her. 

Why did this happen? How could she have… No. How could _he_ have let this happen? All his talk about how they were the hope of monsterkind, heroes that would liberate them all. He didn’t even think to tell them about the real responsibility. 

And now they’re…

Toriel threw the bedsheets off her bed and was out the door in seconds. Her eyes were glowing like embers ready to burn, snapping in the direction of Asgore’s bedroom across the hall. She stormed down the hall muttering incoherently to herself. 

She threw the door open and had already hurled a ball of fire at the bed. Her magic had thrown sparks of fire which caught at several parts of the room. Old items she recognized were being devoured by the hungry flames. The sweater reading “Mr Dad Guy” their children had made for him, the trophy they won for the Nose Snuggling Championship, a portrait of the four of them together, and his journal, open to his last entry: “Nice day today.” 

All of it burned in the fire. 

She shut the door, already smelling the smoke coming from it. There was a chance it could spread throughout the house, she didn’t care. Whatever happened to this house at this point happened. She didn’t care or even consider any of the consequences at this point. If _he_ didn’t, why should she? 

But there was one last thing she had to destroy of her own volition.

~

In the morning, Undyne was looking herself in the mirror, wearing virtually the dress she had chosen.

She had gone through many virtual images and garments of all shapes and colors, some of them still left a bad taste in her mouth. Still, she couldn’t fault the MTT company for lack of diversity or options. 

The dress she had chosen was bright white and looked as soft as silk. It nearly made her look like a kind of specter. The white color stood out with her blue-scales and red hair, and ordinarily the combination would probably fall short in fashion sense. But Mettaton told her the dress was hers and hers alone to choose. And for whatever reason, she felt comfortable with this one. 

She scrolled around the app some more and pressed Order. Normally, this would be when the order would be shipped to the caller within two or three business days. For her case, Mettaton insisted her choice would be ready by the time she came to perform tonight. Which begged the question what was taking place during the other day or two for most others. 

She shrugged, deciding she was no expert on the market. 

_Knock knock knock!_

Undyne turned toward the door. She checked her phone for the time: 6:14. Apparently, choosing her dress had ruined her chance at a good night’s rest. Not that she wasn’t used to getting up early in the morning during her days as a Guardsman. There were many times she would get up to an alarm and start her day hours before anyone else. 

Of course, even on those days, she still had some sleep before she woke. 

“Come in!” She called out. 

The door creaked open and a familiar, wrinkled turtle came into view. He smiled when he saw her, standing in front of a full-length mirror. 

“What, practicing for ‘selfies’ or something?” He rolled his eye and chuckled at the thought. 

She joined him, grinning at the idea she herself found very unlike her to try. “Actually, I’ve been trying out dresses.”

She briefly explained how the app worked and how she had just ordered the dress she chose to wear for tonight. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. “a little birdy told me you performed last night.” He smiled wider and nodded his approval. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve loved to see you on your first piano recital.” 

But Undyne waved him off. “I was wearing this sparkling red dress and heavy makeup. No way you would’ve wanted to see me in that.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Well now I _really_ wish I was around to see you.”

“Gerson!” They both laughed at the light-hearted banter. She acknowledged that if anyone else had said what he said, she’d probably kick him in his teeth. 

“Ah, but no.” Gerson lamented. “I’ve still gotta keep the shop up else I’ll never retire. Just imagine how I’d feel if the _one_ time a customer comes in wanting to buy something, and I’m somewhere watching you play the piano.”

She laughed, it did sound like cruel irony to be expected. Still, it would’ve been nice if he could’ve stopped by to see her perform. She knew he would be proud of her. 

Maybe _he_ would’ve been too. 

“Anyway, enough of that.” Gerson thankfully interrupted her grieving thought. “I was just about to head over to the flowergarden again this morning, and I was wondering if you’d like to join me this time.”

Undyne blinked in surprise. “R-really? Me?” 

He craned his neck around the room, as though to check if there were literally anyone else he could have referred to in the room other than her. When he found no one, he looked back at her, his expression asking, “Well who else?” 

“I don’t know…” she said uncertainly. It certainly sounded nice, but she didn’t think she could handle being in that Throne Room for a while. 

Gerson seemed to sense her confliction and sighed impatiently. “Come on,” he insisted. “it’ll be good for you. It’ll certainly be good for me if one day my back were to break or old age finally catch up with me. I’d want someone to take care of the plants or else they’d wilt.” 

And that was probably what sold the argument for Undyne. She couldn’t stand the thought that the beautiful garden Asgore worked so hard everyday to take care of would wilt or die. It didn’t seem right to her. 

Plus, maybe it _would_ be good for her. Better than waiting here all day before her performance tonight. 

“Alright.” She said. “Lead the way.”

He had the audacity to snort. “Me leading? You’d be better off running ahead and waiting for me.”

~

Despite Gerson’s suggestion, Undyne was patient enough to slowly walk with him. Even when they were in Hotland, she kept a calm, poised stride at the same rate he walked. By the time they took a stop at MTT resort, the worst was behind her.

They were finally approaching the main Royal house, and she instantly recognized the structure from her youth. A pile of grey leaves was littered across the center, unmoving by any wind or outside force. She looked curiously around, searching for the tree that would have cast them here. It never even occurred to her up until now, having seen the leaves as background all her life. 

“Where did these leaves come from?” She finally asked. 

Gerson saw the pile that enraptured her attention, almost as if he himself had only now discovered it. 

“Well, a long time ago,” he theorized. “I remember monsterkind was still pioneering the underground. They first settled far east, in the Ruins, or Home as Asgore named it, then moved further west until we established civilization here in New Home. Back in the Ruins, there is a tree with bright red leaves that never stay on the tree, dotted across the entire region.”

He looked behind them as if he could see the tree now. “The Ebott tree.” He looked back down at the leaf pile that was devoid of the bright-red color. “I think Asgore wanted to try to bring some color to this dreary place. You can see how that turned out.”

Undyne nodded sadly and they both moved on. They were quiet the rest of the way through, going through the house without another word. Undyne noticed Gerson sniffing in the living room before they went down the stairs, seeming to smell something she couldn’t. He always did have a keen sense of smell, even in his old age. When they were downstairs, he whispered something.

Curiously, she swore she heard the word the word “smoke” asked to himself in a question. 

Maybe the queen had been baking early in the morning. She heard it was one of her hobbies. Something in the back of her mind said otherwise, but she didn’t focus on it. 

They were now passing through a golden hallway. Undyne thought it was one of the most beautiful parts of the kingdom. The tiles and marble columns lining the tall, long hallway, were a bright gold. Marvelous colors bounced to her eye when the early morning sunlight shone through the window panes. 

She wasn’t a smell-the-roses type of girl, but she couldn’t help admiring the sights. 

It was almost sad to leave the hallway, though she felt an eager itch now that they were so close to the Throne Room. She remembered excitedly sprinting down these halls as a young child, nervous yet eager to meet the king for the first time. She never could’ve imagined she had been about to meet the gentle man she would call her father-figure. 

She tried to ignore the fact he was gone and kept her eye forward. 

Gerson stopped, sniffing loudly at a scent. She stopped, noticing his eyes were furrowed in deep thought. Now that she took a few deep sniffs herself, she could detect a very faint scent blowing they’re way. 

“Smoke?”

It was said in the form of a question, but there was no denying what she smelt. Gerson seemed to confirm it with a thoughtful nod of his head. 

“Be careful.” He warned. 

They were walking faster to their destination, and it became evident the source of the smell was coming from somewhere near the Throne Room. Undyne had been walking faster than Gerson, almost jogging toward it. She was both eager and cautious to find the source of the smell. It went by one of his old sayings: “When there’s  
smoke, there’s fire.” 

Usually not meant literally, it certainly seemed to be literal right now. 

They finally arrived at the corner of the hallway where the Throne Room was just a stone throw away. She saw a figure standing in front of the entrance to the room, staring directly at it. From a short distance, she recognized the small horns, elegant and poised posture, and long-flowing purple robes. 

Queen Toriel Dreemurr. 

“Your majesty?” She asked. 

When she came closer, she could see lights bouncing from the front of her body. The lights, she realized, were coming from the Throne Room. The lights were bright orange, intensely flickering and constantly moving. And the closer she came to her, the more intense the smoking scent was to her. 

“No.” She said aloud. 

Her walk quickly became a desperate sprint, hoping against all odds she was wrong. She could vaguely hear Gerson calling after her to either slow down or stop, but he was an echo behind her already. The queen didn’t turn to face her, either not noticing her or not caring. Undyne screeched to a halt and checked inside the Throne Room. 

The entire room was on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about the cliffhanger. You'll see what happens next immediately.  
> Oh wait... you're one of the guys whose reading this before the next chapter is finished, aren't you?  
> Well... sorry. Have fun waiting. Bye.


	11. Assault and Battery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned before this has been a very humble experience for me, and I still believe that. Especially after finishing reading Flowey's is Not a Good Lifecoach. UnrestedJade's work has marvelous prose, amazing pacing and character portrayals - the kind many would aspire to achieve. And that goes for many works that are well beyond my own, fanfiction and otherwise.   
> But I don't aim to write just as good or better than FINAGLC; I aim to write my story. So that's what I'll do. I plan to edit in the future and make cuts, including the tree sequence from the last chapter (I've found out there is no tree there in the game, oops), and the biggest part, the second half of chapter nine. Although it was fun writing Mettaton dialogue there, it really added to nothing and gave no real takeaway. I'm not ashamed of writing that part the more I think of it, I'm glad I'm able to self-critique. I'll probably get around to cutting out those things after a few days or so and after a few chapters, though knowing the problem is different from knowing the solution.   
> Anyway, I've rambled long enough. Enjoy.

Toriel barely noticed the newcomer rushing into her field of view. Her eyes were so transfixed at the glorious field of embers dancing ahead of her. She was about to finally be rid of that ghastly garden. It didn’t used to spark such hatred inside her, but suddenly, she could only list every reason she hated the sight of it. 

Afterall, surely it was from this very garden that Chara was able to poison herself using buttercups, the same way she and Asriel had accidentally done to their father decades before. Even with this newly found hatred, she admitted there was hesitation before she sparked a wildfire. The garden was beautiful, filled with a floor of soft, golden flowers. 

She couldn’t describe how liberating it felt to burn it all. 

Toriel brought her attention to the newcomer, taking her time to recognize them. Through the haze of billowing smoke, she saw red hair, blue scales, and a black tank-top. Undyne. 

They had met in person once, when her decree to disband the Royal Guard called for the former resignations of each member. The former captain was quiet that day and hardly spoke a word. Then, just last night, the queen had seen her on stage, playing the piano with poised grace and deft. 

What had she come here for now? She wondered for a moment. Whatever reason she came, she would no doubt discard them now. Now, there was a large fire in the throne room, and the queen barely meters away from the fire with faint traces of soot on her robes. It would only be natural for the former captain to ask what happened or if she was alright. 

But instead of any of those, she turned her head, directing her one eye toward her. 

Toriel stepped back from the sheer intensity of her glare. Craning her neck just to look at her gave her the visage of a vulture. Her sharp, yellow teeth were barred, gritted furiously together. There was a dangerous hum of magic emanating from her, threatening to burst like a breaking dam or geyser. 

“What did you do?” She growled. 

And just then, beneath that yellow, hateful eye glaring at her, the queen saw a single tear tracing down her scaled face.

~

_“Hey, Asgore.”_

Undyne flashed memories from her youth. She was only a child still, barely approaching her years as a teenager. Meanwhile, Asgore, her father-figure, was still a gentle, soft giant monster. 

_“Yes?” _He asked.__

___“How did you plant this garden?”_ _ _

__They were seated on a picnic mat inside the throne room garden. The two of them enjoyed golden-flower tea and delicately cut triangular-shaped sandwiches. Now, the king looked at the green and yellow field outside their mat, and smiled sadly._ _

___“These flowers came from the surface.”_ He explained. _“Before the war. Gerson and I found this spot just inside the barrier, and we thought it would be perfect for starting a garden.”_ _ _

__Another thought had occurred to her, noticing how he looked longingly at the field of flowers. Especially at one area, where his expression became grieved._ _

___“Why do you still have it?”_ She asked. _ _

__He flinched at that and turned curiously at her. She gave him what she thought an insistent expression, which he smiled gently at._ _

___“Why?”_ He asked. _“Well, as Gerson would probably put it, ‘I think it looks neat.’”_ They both smiled, noting that was exactly how their old friend would put it. _“Do you not like it?”_

She hastily shook her head to dismiss the idea. Then, realizing that might be taken as affirmation, she spoke her denial. _“No, I love it! It’s very pretty, and…”_ she trailed off. 

Asgore was nodding his head at her words, more as if he were responding rather than actually agreeing with her. He stared off again at the patch of flowers, just in front of the throne room that made him look sad for whatever reason. 

_“It was over there.”_ He suddenly said. 

Curious, Undyne turned her head to focus at the patch of flowers. Among the hundreds of flowers, she noticed the petals seemed in better shape and cared for. 

_“That’s where I lost them.”_ He continued. _“My family.”_

She instinctively jumped onto his lap, startling the king, and gave him a hug. Her arms were not nearly as long enough to even wrap around his chest, so it looked more like a pat. This close to him, she heard him breathing softly, then deafeningly as he quietly chuckled and laid a soft paw on her back. 

_“You are very sweet, Undyne.”_ He said. He looked back at the flower patch. _“This garden is all I have left of them. That’s why I take care of it every day.”_ He looked down at her and she saw him give her a sad smile. 

_“It’s the least I can do now.”_ He said. 

He didn’t have to explain – she knew. She hugged him tighter and he responded in kind. And for a long while, they stayed that way, under the gentle hums of distant birdsong.

~

Undyne didn’t mean to do what she was doing now, she really didn’t.

She was rash and hotheaded as a child, and even now as an adult. It was easier for her to control now; she could usually hold back her violent side when she knew it would be inappropriate. And whenever someone was hurt as a result of her spontaneous flash of anger or fit, that was always when it stopped immediately. 

Now, things were different. She had come to the Throne Room and found it entirely ablaze, including the garden inside. Meanwhile, the Queen was waiting outside, staring at the fire unafraid, as though she herself caused the blaze to begin with. Undyne was rash and hotheaded, but she wasn’t an idiot. All the signs told her exactly what happened here – how and why were irrelevant. 

The despair transformed into rage. 

Her legs moved before her mind did; then her arms; before she could even process what she was doing, she was holding Toriel with both hands by her neck. 

She saw terror in the Queen’s eyes mixed with confusion. Gerson’s shouts were barely reaching her in her fogged state of mind. To her, there was only one thing she had to think of doing: kill the woman responsible for his desecration. 

The Queen didn’t even like him; she _abandoned_ him. For decades he was left all alone with nothing but the garden for company, meanwhile the entire kingdom is told she was dead. Now here she was burning everything he fought for. 

All Undyne had to do was squeeze. 

But before they could, the Queen’s eyes suddenly became orange and blue.

~

Toriel batted desperately against her attacker’s clutches, her hands like talons against her soft throat. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, surging her magical reservoir to fend her off. But the shock was keeping it inside. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her even as it was happening now, so much so she hoped it was a dream.

Then the pain on her throat and the powerful gusts of smoke would remind her this was very real. 

Before she could think of what to do, Undyne’s grip suddenly released her. She dropped to the floor, choking violently and gulping fresh breaths of air. The air held traces of smoke and bits of her own dust, but it was better than the terrifying lack of air only moments ago. 

She looked up fearfully, like a lamb up at a wolf. The former captain stared down with her yellow eye, the hatred replaced with confusion and regret. She stared at her hands in terror, then looked back down at her. Had she not tried to kill her? 

“Toriel!”

A familiar voice rang through the air, but Toriel didn’t dare look to see him. She saw him kneel down next to her, asking if she was alright. All she could do was slowly nod, still staring up at Undyne. Several questions were entering her mind, but a revelation kept her from asking any of them. 

“You tried to kill me.” She said.

~

Hearing those words wounded her like a knife cut, as if saying it aloud made any difference. Undyne stepped back, feeling the blazing heat scorch her back and the smoke choke her gills.

What the hell did she do? Why did she do that? 

Gerson was knelt next to the queen. He turned to her now with an expression that broke her heart more than anything else: disappointment mixed with fear. 

She gasped. She wanted to say sorry, anything to let them know she wasn’t in the right state of mind; that it was all an accident. But no words escaped her mouth. 

Instead, she turned back down the hallway she came. She ran faster than she ever did before. 

_I just almost killed Toriel,_ she roared at herself. _I could have fucking killed her!_

But it was more than that, she realized. For just one moment, she wasn’t holding the Queen in her hands around her throat, ready to squeeze the life out from her.   
Those eyes…

She felt she almost killed Asgore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone care to explain to Undyne what Regicide means? I'd ask Asgore, but he's been regicided.


	12. Drifting and Prank Callers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention before. I looked up Scarlet Renegade the other day (cause that's a question that's fun to find out), and turns out, it's actually some kind of faction in World of Warcraft. I might change it to something else (Scarlet Rebel is a book of some kind), but it's not important. Something to be aware of though, I'll give it some thought. Anyways, onward.

Unsurprisingly, Undyne didn’t want to do anything for the rest of the day. She wanted to go home, crawl in bed and sleep all day. But first, she didn’t have a home; her house was still under reconstruction from the fire damage. Second, she had a performance to do tonight, at MTT Resort. Despite her really not wanting to do that tonight, she was obligated to; so she would. 

Unfortunately, it was still morning, and her performance wasn’t due for nearly twelve hours. She could wait at Mettaton’s old house until it happened, but she knew the complacency would drive her mad; she couldn’t sleep for hours at a time the way Sans could. Her normal solution would be training with the Mad Dummy, an immortal specter who allows her to train her attacks against him. Otherwise, she ordinarily jogged around the underground, mostly around Waterfall. None of it appealed to her though; she didn’t want to talk with anybody today. 

Then she remembered something Papyrus said the other day. She was still running and about to cross the precarious bridge over HotLand when she spotted the river. The idea occurred to her and she dove in. 

Immediately, her entire body became submerged underwater. The current had already started to push her back before she rose. When her head was above water, she began to stroke against the current. 

Her muscles flared, reacting to actions not done in a long time. It took her time to warm up, but she was soon swimming against the current and moving forward. Her head turned upon each stroke – one stroke while her face was submerged underwater, then one to take a breath. The latter wasn’t as necessary as her subspecies could breathe underwater. That habit was taught to her when Gerson first gave her swimming lessons, so she’s kept it since. 

It was going to be a long way to nowhere for her, and she hoped she would know when to get ready for the performance.

~

“I hope this works.”

Alphys had by now triple-checked the textures and qualities of the fake dust she had spent the last night prepping. The grey material was trapped inside of a vial. As far as she could tell, it _looked_ like dust, not that she had seen any before to make an accurate comparison. Despite her focus, she could tell she was suffering from sleep-deprivation. 

“I… need to…”

Her words were slurred, and her mind was unfocused. She didn’t sleep at all last night working on the mixture. But she couldn’t sleep; she had to get this right. If something looked off with the “dust,” the families would know. Then Toriel would know, and then everyone would start asking her the truth. 

She couldn’t tell the truth. She couldn’t. She-

“Hello Alphys!”

She gasped and nearly spilt the jar of “dust.” Who had just barged inside? Who-

“Oh…” She relaxed, recognizing Papyrus as he walked inside. He was wearing his usual “Battle Body.” She realized she must’ve forgotten to lock the doors last night.  
“H-hello.”

The skeleton turned to notice her on the table, seeing the vial that had her preoccupied. “What’s that?” He asked. 

He pointed at the vial. He looked puzzled when she immediately held the jar tighter as though to hide it, not even realizing she did so. She forced herself to relax, or at least to look like she was. 

“It’s… uhm…” excuses fluttered around her exhausted mind, unable to find a believable one. “An e-experiment.” Hopefully, that would pass to detract his curiosity.  
She saw he was still looking curiously at the vial, and hastily said something else before he asked what experiment it was for. 

“W-what are you doing here?” She asked. His attention seemed snapped from the vial, nearly causing her to so much as sigh in relief. Thankfully, she stopped herself before she did. 

“Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with my new phone.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

She finished it for him two days ago and gave it to him yesterday. He was beaming with excitement and gratitude, thanking her for building him a new one. They exchanged a few messages via Undernet before she spent the night making fake dust. 

Tech problems were something she understood. “What’s wrong with it?” She was already asking as she walked up to him, studying the device in question.  
Papyrus handed her his phone, which she immediately studied before he answered. “I keep getting a call from a stranger. I think they’re pranking me.”

Alphys looked curiously up at him. “You’re being prank called?” She asked. 

It sounded unusual to come to her with a problem like this. She expected some kind of broken hardware or even a virus. A prank caller sounded like something you’d either just ignore or call a service to trace the caller and deal with it. 

“Yes,” he said. “I’m not sure by whom. This morning was the fifth time they called me. Every time I try to answer them, they just hang up.” 

She furrowed her brow, checking the phone now for its call history. Sure enough, there were five calls within the past twenty-four hours by an unknown caller. She wasn’t surprised; it was common practice to embrace anonymity when prank phone-calling. It would be easy for her to trace the real number. 

“What did they say?” She asked. 

She walked toward her computer on the desk, searching for a cable to plug it in. She found it and plugs it in to her computer, then into the phone. Tracing the call should take five minutes. 

“They said, ‘come join the fun.’” Papyrus finally answered. 

Alphys gasped. She stared at the phone as though it suddenly spoke to her. The words were deathly familiar to her, and there was only one person – or more accurately, one thing – that would say that. 

She hastily unplugged the cord from her computer and from the phone. Without thinking, she pushed the phone off her desk as if it were made of fire. 

“Oh my!” Papyrus saw his phone fly off the desk, landing in the floor with a skid. He rushed over to the device and picked it up, examining for damage. “Phew. Nothing got damaged. Crisis avert-“

His words cut short as he peered in Alphys’s direction. Her whole body was shaking; the hand she pushed the phone with was shaking the most, violently flailing as though having a stroke. Her chest rose and fell rapidly while her mind raced. 

How could they call his cell? What did they want? Does he know? How is this happening? 

“Alphys?” 

She flinched as though a sharp knife were poking her scales, only to find Papyrus had merely gently touched him. She saw now the look of worry in his eyesockets. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. “It’s okay, it was just an accident. No damage done, see?” As if to demonstrate, he showed her the phone she had shoved away. Not a crack or scratch to be seen. 

“O-oh.” She managed to say. “That’s… a relief.” She tried to smile but it didn’t feel right. Her body still shuddered uncontrollably, and her heart was pounding inside her chest. She knew she probably could barely utter any sentences right now before suffering a panic attack. 

_Ring ring!_

The sound made her jump; she could swear her own soul almost jumped out her body at the same time. She sighed when Papyrus picked up and answered the phone. 

“Hello?” He asked. For a moment she worried it was them again. “Sans?” She sighed in relief again. This was getting too much for her poor heart to take. 

“What is it?” Papyrus continued. “Yes, I fed him this morning before I left… What do you mean there weren’t any sprinkles when you got up?” He pinched his forehead and grunted. “And the sock’s gone? Where did the sock go!? Oh no, is _he_ back?”

Alphys could hear the discussion taking place while Papyrus slowly became a ball of tension. He stomped on the ground frustratingly, told Sans he would be right there, then hung up. He sighed, turning apologetically to her. 

“Sorry.” He apologized. “Sans says a certain bane-of-my-existence-with-four-legs came to our house for a visit again. I need to get back to reclaim some stolen property.”

“O-oh, it’s no problem!” She replied reflexively. As outrageous as this scenario sounded, she was grateful for a chance to be rid of him before a lie slipped out. 

But he was already rushing out the eastern door. “See you later!” He cried. 

He dashed into the barren heat outside the lab, the door shutting down behind him. 

She sighed; she didn’t realize how much of her breath she held until he was gone. Not that she didn’t enjoy his company – he was a fun guy to hang around with and really nice. But it was taking its toll on her trying to carry on the discussion without revealing any of her guarded secrets. Now she could rest easy. 

Well, easier, as she was reminded by the grey vial. It was still early in the day, and she needed to get the mixture just right. Just as she reached for it, her whole world swayed gently from side to side. Sleep deprivation was lulling her senses, tempting her away from her work. 

She firmly shook her head and grabbed a hold of the vial. Sleep would be a blissful reward for when this was all said and done.

~

Undyne’s sore body limply drifted along the river’s current. Every muscle she could feel weighed on her like a bag of bricks, making any movement an effort for her.  
She had no idea how long she had been swimming, but it wasn’t for nearly as long as she thought she could. When exhaustion became too much for her, she started  
drifting like plywood down the river.

For the most part, she drifted facing up, staring at the jeweled, dripping ceiling above her. She spent most of her complacent time thinking about what happened earlier. 

The more she thought of it, she didn’t hate Toriel. Did she? Ever since Asgore died, she had been an emotional wreck. Nothing she felt seemed trustworthy, like it was what she was supposed to feel. After nearly killing the queen, she was almost certain of that now. 

But why did the queen burn the garden in the first place? She saw there was this almost triumphant expression on her face as she stood just outside the burning garden. And while she had been running off, Undyne saw Asgore’s old room had been burnt too. It was like Toriel hated him; why did she hate him? 

Her head banged against something hard, stopping her drift in an instant. She craned her head and saw she had bumped into a boat – Riverperson’s boat. She could even hear them sing that same song again in the echoing tunnel. 

“Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.”

Seeing them sing on their boat reminded her of their last encounter. They said something cryptic to her she couldn’t quite get out of her head. _“An old king falls and a new queen takes his place. But which one?”_ She’d remember every time she went to bed, wondering what it meant.  
It was time to hear a clearer message. 

“Hey!” 

She reached for the edge of the boat, rocking it back to support her weight. Water dripped onto the boat as more and more of her body got on board. Meanwhile, Riverperson continued to sing their hym, as though blissfully unaware she was arriving. _Oh God forbid you help me up,_ she thought. _That would be just too much._

When she was finally onboard, she stood up, waiting for the boat to stop rocking. “What did you mean before?” She asked. “What were you talking about?” 

The cowled figure turned to her as if noticing her for the first time. “Oh?” They said curiously. “Hello Undyne. Care for a ride?” 

She gritted her teeth and growled in frustration. “What did you mean about which queen?” 

That was the heart of the message, she knew. _“An old king falls”_ no doubt referred to Asgore, _“a new queen takes his place”_ supposedly refers to Toriel, but the last three words, _“but which one,”_ was the question invading her thoughts. Either this person was going to start making sense or she’d beat it out of them. 

“What is a queen?” They asked. She raised her fist to strike them. “A leader of many; a leader of a kingdom. She becomes queen by either inheriting it,” they turned away, facing the front of the boat. “or by taking it.” 

Undyne calm, her frustration replaced by confusion. “What?” She asked. “Taking it? What are you…”  
She frowned, hearing they were already back to their hym. Somehow she knew she wouldn’t get anything more out of them. 

This was a waste of time, she thought. She stepped out of the boat, letting it rock gently behind her. On her way out, she could hear their gentle hym echo along the tunnel. 

“Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are not Riverperson, you are Foreshadow McGee! 
> 
>  
> 
> And now we wait for the oncoming meme...


	13. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably last another ten or dozen chapters, give or take. I'm anxious to see how this will look when everything is said and done; what tags will I end up using or characters on the list? I'm less excited on all the editing I'll be doing. I'll probably take a couple weeks off or longer once it's done so I can edit with a fresh perspective. Otherwise, I have a couple of cuts I'll be making after posting this, on chapter nine and ten.   
> Anyway, thank y'all so much for your support and encouragement. Enjoy and thank you!

Lucky for Undyne, the Riverperson’s ferry was docked in Waterfall. The rest of the walk home was short for her, though her eye still darted from side to side, ready to avoid any discussion with passerby’s. 

No one was around, so she continued freely. It was a short walk to her temporary home, and she arrived quickly. 

But as she drew closer, Undyne saw a figure standing outside the front door, waiting for her.   
Gerson. 

“Oh crap.” She whispered. 

She had never seen him frown at her the way he did now. The closest he came to it before had been on some occasion when she did wrong as a toddler. He was always a cheerful old timer even during bitter times, so it was a desperate occasion to see him appear disappointed now. 

“Hey, Undyne.” He greeted dryly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

There was no doubt why he looked this way, but she tried to talk around the elephant in the room anyway. “Uh, hey, Gerson.” She tried to make a convincing smile, but that one-eyed glare made it only come out halfway. “Nice seeing you too.” 

He nodded, his frown still clear as day. “I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.” He pointed with a thumb at the pink house behind him. “You left your phone inside.” He crossed his arms suspiciously. “What were you doing?” 

She had left her phone at the apartment when she left with him to water the garden. It didn’t occur to her that she would need her phone, and she forgot she had by the time she went on her swim. She had other things on her mind at the time. 

“I was swimming in the river. I’m sorry, I forgot about my phone.” She added the apology as though to add a cushion to her excuse. 

Gerson simply nodded again. 

“You know what _I_ was doing?” He asked. 

She didn’t dare answer. Whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to be pretty, so all she could do was brace herself. Her posture straightened and she waited for him to continue. 

“Damage control.” He answered after a long pause. He shook his head with a pinched forehead. “I haven’t had to do damage control since you broke the mailman’s legs.” 

Undyne slightly recoiled. That seemed unfair, she thought. She did that as a child years ago. She apologized for it on several occasions and suffered plenty for the assault. 

“Geez, get over it.” 

He harrumphed impatiently. “I am over it. Even though you’ve scarred the poor fellow after that incident so that he’s never left his house since, I’m over it.”   
His frown widened, but now it was sadder than anything else. “But you did that when you were a child, Undyne. You hurt him badly and you were punished with a slap on the wrist. Now you’re all grown up, and you nearly kill the Queen of all monsters.” He shook his head again, looking down defeatedly. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince Toriel _not_ to have you executed? How much I had to tell her to convince her you weren’t a danger to society?”

Undyne kept her mouth shut. She looked down at the rocky ground ashamedly. Every time she worked the courage to look back up at him, she’d immediately look down again. 

Eventually, she heard him sigh. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Undyne.” He said. “You’re going to your little performance tonight, then go home, rest up, then tomorrow, you’re to meet with Toriel for your punishment.”

She looked up from the floor to face him again, an incredulous expression on her face. “Punishment?” 

She thought he had patched things up with her. She made a mistake and she was fully aware of it, it wouldn’t happen again. She wasn’t some mad dog to be put down or collared, he knew that; everyone knew that. 

Instead of saying any of that, she continued to stare in disbelief at him. 

“Yes, Undyne.” He answered as if it should come as no surprise. “You attacked the Queen of all monsters, that’s capital punishment; that’s the kind of criminal act that gets the perpetrator executed. I persuaded her to bring the punishment down to torture.” He seemed to notice the incredulous look on her face and scowled. “You aren’t getting off the hook with this one. You made a choice and now you have to suffer the consequences for it.” 

He sounded almost angry now. She had never seen him like this, always so cheerful and optimistic. What was possessing him to act this way? Had she really gone that far out of line? 

Of course she had. She had nearly killed the Queen. Never mind even that; she had nearly _killed_ someone. 

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly said. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. When I realized she had burned the garden I was just suddenly…” she tried to find a more appropriate word than what she had in mind but couldn’t find it. “Angry.”

Gerson had the nerve to roll his eye at her. 

“Oh, grow up, Undyne.” 

The comment came out rude and painful, which was exactly how she took it. 

“You act like you’re the only one who’s suffering.” He continued. “Well, I knew plenty of folks during the war; I could share you lots of stories, and they all end with, ‘and then they died too.’ There’s not one person in here who doesn’t have something eating them, something they have to deal with every single day. Do you know what everyone else does? They get over it. And you can take that as just another ‘Life sucks’ message all you want, but everything you do and even everything you feel is always a choice. Do I give up, or do I keep going?”

He sighed again, the grief back in his frown and eye. “I miss Asgore too. He was an old, dear friend of mine who I knew longer than you ever could. He was a king unlike any other.” He gave her a sad smile. “But he was a friend beyond anything I deserved. Surely you know that.” 

She couldn’t help but smile and nod affirmation. It was sad to think back on him, on all the things he would do and used to say. There would never be anyone like him in her life again. 

“But that’s how it’s supposed to be.” He continued sadly. “The old die and the young pass on their wisdom. I know he would be proud to have passed it along to you.” 

He pushed off the wall and stretched his arms over his head, emitting creaking sounds that reached her ears. “I’m gonna head on home now. It’ll be alright, Undyne.”   
He smiled and patted her on the shoulder as he walked past her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He frowned, as though remembering what was going to happen tomorrow, and then continued on. While hearing his footsteps behind her, Undyne suddenly remembered something. She turned around and called after him. 

“Gerson!” He stopped and turned to look at her. “Does…” she hesitated, not sure if she ought to go through her question. She shook her head and decided to go through with it. “Does Toriel hate him?” 

The burnt bedroom and flowergarden seemed to suggest an aversion toward him. Why that was, she didn’t know. She thought if anyone would, it would be her old mentor. 

He frowned at her question. “Undyne…” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t think too much on that. I told you; they went through a lot before, said things they regretted saying, and now they can’t make up for it.”

“But does she hate him?” She asked again. 

She didn’t know why, but she had to know. Maybe it was so she could figure whether her emotional response was justified. Her actions certainly were not justified; maybe her thoughts and assumptions were right at the time though. 

He turned back around, and she thought he was going to ignore her question. There was a long pause where dripping water filled the silence between them. He looked up at the ceiling – filled with glittering stones – as though he were making a wish. 

“What if she did?” He asked. “Does that make her a bad person? And what if she didn’t?” He shook his head. “I don’t see how answering your question is going to make any difference. Either like her or don’t, so long as you follow the rules. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

Without another word, he walked off, leaving her contemplating many things. 

Now that she was left alone, Undyne looked up at the ceiling herself, finding a large, shining blue gem stuck above her. She stared at it as though it would give her all the answers she ever wanted. All the hopes, dreams, and comfort she could ever need. 

Unsurprisingly, it was remained silent and lifeless on the ceiling.

~

Undyne was grateful for coming home when she did. When she retrieved her phone to check the time, she immediately realized she was running late for her performance. Already dressed for travel, she rushed out the door and made a beeline for MTT Resort.

She barely felt Hotland’s heat on her scales as she took the eastern elevator up to the resort, rushing out to the glamorous building. As per usual, the place was packed with hotel guests and tourists. A few of them seemed to recognize her, but she was in too much of a hurry for them to actually greet her. 

She burst through the Employees Only room backstage, where several workers and other performers were moving like bees in a hive. Some of them looked to see her sprint just past them, casting her a blurred expression before disappearing behind her. In the instances she could see them, she thought they looked sorry. 

The thought immediately left her as she arrived in her dressing room. Sure enough, the dress she ordered was lying folded and in plastic wrap on top of her make-up station. She hastily changed herself, leaving her greasy and damp tanktop lying on the floor. Donned with her new white dress, she looked herself in the mirror. 

She stared in wonder for a moment, shocked to see the stranger looking at her through the mirror. Her hair was still a sweaty mess from her day’s activities, but the dress was soft and flowed like silk. It reached until it was just above the top of her boots, which clashed with the soft fabric. She realized only then that she didn’t find matching shoes for wear. 

A confused scowl showed in the mirror. She didn’t care about this girly crap. It wasn’t as if the crowd would see her feet anyway. 

_Knock knock!_

After knocking on the door, she turned to see the door opening. Mettaton had stepped in with a smooth lunge with his legs, shutting the door behind him. 

“You look smashing, darling.” He commented. 

It was only enough for her not to be furious at him barging into her changing room unannounced. “Thank you.” 

He held his hands behind him in a businesslike manner. 

“Darling,” he began. “I don’t think there’s any easy way to say this. I’m just gonna go ahead and say it. You’re fired.” 

Undyne stared at him in disbelief. She searched any gesture or nonexistent expression for sign of him pulling her leg. Instead he just stood there in earnest.   
“Darling,” he continued while taking a step forward. “the news is everywhere right now. And I’m afraid we can’t be associated with…” He waved his hand as he tried to find the right word. “criminals.”

She tried to think of what he could be talking about when it dawned on her. “You don’t mean…” 

He moved his body in a nodding motion. “The internet moves fast. Word gets around the Queen sentences you to torture tomorrow, reporters dig into why that is, journalists find you tried to kill the Queen in cold dust.” He made a “tsk tsk” sound. “Regicide sounds very sexy, in my humble, professional opinion. But its unfortunately terrible for business.

“We’ll keep you on for tonight, but after that, you’ll have to file your resignation to my office.” He emitted a robotic sigh. “It’s been a pleasure working with you and we’ve had good times, darling. You’re still welcome to stay at my place. Oh, and shows on in five minutes. Don’t worry about the makeup, the crew will take care of   
you on your way onstage.” 

He clapped his hands. “Chop chop!” As if on cue, two crew members carrying makeup kits burst into the room and were already dolling Undyne up before she could react. Her body was moving forward and out the door dazedly, feeling the makeup applied to her face. 

She made a mistake, and now she was realizing she was being hated for it. She had lost her job, the respect of her elder mentor, and possibly all her friends once all this was said and done. Her reputation was all but ruined by now; she was practically a walking corpse. 

Even so, none of that was what hurt the most, even though it was all painful for her to bear. The worst was knowing how different everything would be if he were here. 

If Asgore knew what she had tried to do, he would hate her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Say it again! Say it!"  
> "Regicide."   
> "Oh yes! Say it like you're considering murdering the Queen!"  
> *Walks in here wondering Whiskey Tango Foxtrot are these strangers doing in my room shouting about Regicide*


	14. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess I was close to tears near finishing this. When I get into the characters I write in emotional moments, organically, their emotions resonate with mine. It's been a long time since I felt something like that and I'm so glad to feel it again. I hope the passion and emotion is spread to you guys the same way. Thank you all for all your support. Enjoy

“Places everyone!” 

The stage manager quietely yelled at the back of the stage, spurring everyone into action. He jerked his finger at Undyne and pointed for her to get ready as well. She saw him frown when he looked at her dirty boots, opening his mouth to say something but shook it off. 

She _really_ didn’t want to be onstage right now. If what Mettaton said was true, then everyone probably knew about what she did by now. The staff’s shamed expressions were tortuous to see; she couldn’t stand seeing the faces of a crowded restaurant. Even if she couldn’t, if the lights successfully kept her from seeing everyone, the imagination seemed much worse than she could bare. 

She didn’t want to be here anymore. 

The curtains rose without an announcer this time. She was caught unawares by a blinding spotlight, and she instinctively held her hand to block the glare like the night before. This time, the crowd was completely silent. She could see every head was turned to face her, a few of them she recognized bearing pitying expressions. 

Why was she here? 

Instead of answering, she gulped and took her seat on the piano. The keyboard seemed to sway precariously in front of her, but she reached out with her fingers regardless. She could barely see the keys while her hands shook, so she forced herself to shut her eye, hoping that would help. 

It was better; she could see with her mind’s eye the keyboard, moving her fingers in all the familiar places. With a confident smile, she began to play. 

The song she chose to play was slow and melodic like the previous night, with short pauses between the opening notes. The locals called the song _Its Raining Somewhere Else,_ and she imagined it wasn’t her fingers creating the melody, but gentle raindrops cascading the soft soil of earth. The imagery helped her focus, losing herself in her own melody. 

Then the settling ambience made her miss a note. The crowd was starting to whisper to one another, the kind of tones that suggested they were gossiping about someone else in the room. That person, she realized, could only have been one person. She had no doubt everyone was theorizing what had happened, telling it to all their friends until it was probably being told she had attempted to skewer the Queen. 

The unfairness of it hurt her dearly. She made a mistake; it was an accident. Wasn’t it?

She missed another note. 

More people were talking aloud now, either gossiping with one another or noticing her lack in performance. The former was the only thing she could imagine, crippling her arms and fingers like a heavy weight. She noticed more and more notes were missing their mark, distracting the melody from her mind’s eye. 

She swore she could make out certain words spoken among the crowd. Things like “murder” and “manslaughter.” Once she believed she heard it once, it was all she could hear from everyone else. 

Everyone hated her. Everyone thought she had tried to kill the queen. She did, but it was an accident. 

Shut up. 

Wasn’t it? She didn’t mean to; she lost control. Right?

Shut. Up. 

Why would no one be quiet? Why would no one mind their own damn business? Don’t they have anything better to do? 

_Murderer._

She slammed the keyboard in sudden rage. 

“SHUT UP!”

Her voice boomed like thunder. The whispering stopped, and she finally opened her eye. The keyboard was cracked where her fists had slammed it, and a continuous deep sound emitted while they were still pressed. It stopped when she raised her fists, drowning the room in a sudden silence. She breathed heavily, the only sound audible in the entire room. 

She turned and saw everyone staring up at her in fear. But she wasn’t looking at any of them. Whom she was looking at – she knew – didn’t exist. Yet there he was, all the same. His face was mixed with horror and disappointment, melding together into grief. 

Asgore Dreemurr. 

He disappeared back into the nonexistence he truly was. She reached out to him, whispering his name as though to summon him back. To touch his soft fur and hear his gentle humming again. 

But nobody came.

~

“Oh no!”

Papyrus cried next to Sans, watching Undyne suddenly lash out at nothing and then cry onstage. The crowd was starting to murmur around themselves, no doubt looking unfavorably at her display. 

“I don’t think that was part of the show.” Sans commented. 

They had both arrived at the resort to see her perform, Papyrus insisting on giving her moral support and good luck. But then disaster sprung from seemingly nowhere, engulfing the room with her quiet sobbing in front of over a hundred occupants. 

“We have to do something.” Papyrus said urgently. 

“Like what?” His brother asked. 

He rubbed his gloved hand over his chin while humming thoughtfully. An epiphany struck him and he snapped his fingers. 

“I got it!” He cried. “Sans, I have my triangle with me. Do you have your…”

He paused, letting the unspoken word hang in the air. 

“My what?” Sans asked innocently. 

Papyrus released an impatient sigh. “You know _exactly_ what I mean, brother. Don’t you dare make me say it, Undyne’s reputation is on the line!”

“Okay, yeah, I’ve got it.” He responded with a shrug. 

Papyrus stood from his seat and pointed dramatically to the stage. 

“Here comes the Royal Guard to save the day again!”

~

Undyne was crying; why was she crying? Her tears were supposed to be something private, something that only those she cared for could see if she wasn’t alone. Now everyone was watching her cry.

She tried gritting her teeth – getting angry to push down the grief. But every attempt just exhausted her and released even more tears. She had to get away. 

“Nyeh heh heh!”

A familiar loud laughter erupted across the stage. A tall skeleton leapt on top of the stage, attempting a fancy roll during his entry. His entrance failed and instead landed face first with a skid on the stage. 

“Ouch.” She heard him cry. He shook himself off and stood erect. “I mean, heh heh! Ladies and gentlemonsters, it is I, the Great Papyrus! Hit it!”

Undyne didn’t see Sans get on stage, yet here he was now with a trombone in his hands. He tapped the brass instrument with his knuckles. 

“How’s that?” He asked. 

“Sans,” Papyrus groaned. “I meant play the music.” 

“Okay.” 

He blew on his trumpet with a long, low tone. Papyrus pulled out a triangle from his pockets and began to strike the metal with his own bony fingers. Before long, the   
two of them began an energized, upbeat symphony. 

Undyne stared wide-eyed at the two of them. Particularly Sans, whom she’d never seen play his instrument so well before. His breaths were deep and quick, changing pitch rapidly to fit the music despite his lack of lungs. 

Papyrus turned to face her while still playing his triangle. “Pst! Undyne!” He whispered (quietly shouted). “We’ll keep them distracted. Get going!” He looked back at the crowd and “Nyehed” at them, to which they applauded at. 

The crowd was enjoying the performance given to them, and she realized this probably would be the best chance of a quiet exit as she would get. She even noticed the spotlight wasn’t on her anymore, but the tall skeleton with the plastic chestplate. She stood up slowly, careful not to draw attention to herself, and called after him. 

“Thank you.” She said. Whether he heard her or not, she tip-toed her way behind the curtain and backstage.   
With the stage behind her, she burst into a sprint. She retreated to her dressing room, got back into her regular clothes and tank-top. She ignored all the people   
calling out to her, no doubt wondering where she was running off to in such a hurry. Even if she did feel like answering, she only had one answer to give:

Anywhere but here.

~

All Undyne could tell was she had ran for a long time. Eventually, she collapsed on her knees, wheezing in exhaustion. Her tank-top was drenched in sweat by now which only made her colder now in Snowdin.

She suddenly realized where she was and was astonished she had come so far almost unconsciously. Every second now was turning her sodden top into a sheet of ice, but her fatigue kept her body still. So she sat on her knees in the snow, wheezing in exhaustion while shivering, broken. 

The only conscious thing she could do was cry. 

“Damn it!” 

Her shout echoed through the empty horizon. She crushed the snow beneath her palms in anger. In her attempt to stand up she instead rolled to the side, huddled next to the bark of a pine tree. Her breath was still rapid, exhaling puffs of fog in front of her from the cold. 

She remembered being huddled next to Asgore when she was sick as a child, warming herself by the fireplace. She weakly punched the snow in whatever anger she could demonstrate. Why did every happy memory hurt so much? 

Every warm memory made her colder; every happy memory made her sadder; every memory with him alive was making her want to die. She just wanted to cry. She wanted to cry and freeze to death. 

And so, she sat huddled by the pine tree to do just that.

~

Undyne was stirred awake when a sudden warmth enveloped her. There were some voices she couldn’t make out, making it impossible for her to focus. Why were they trying to wake her? She just wanted to sleep…

“Howdy!” 

A familiar, deep voice in the echo greeted her cheerfully. She opened her eye as wide as she could, recoiling under the sudden glare of light. A massive figure with white fur stood over her, blocking the intense light and giving her a warm smile. She looked up and there he was. 

Asgore Dreemurr, alive and well. 

“You look so cold.” He said to her. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

She looked up with a growing smile on her face. A warm tear was flowing down her cold face. 

“Asgore?” She asked. 

Suddenly, he gave her a smile that could’ve melted all the ice she felt was covering her. He extended a palm out for her to grab. 

“Woof!” He yelped. 

Her illusion was instantly shattered and the fog in her vision was cleared. Greater Dog was panting with a smile on his face, looking down at her with tiny, beady eyes. 

Not Asgore. 

The tears came back again, and this time they were cold. She didn’t make any motion when Greater Dog picked her up and hung her by his shoulder like a ragdoll.   
She was left staring at his tiny wagging tail while her body swayed from his every step. 

Undyne wanted to dream again. She wanted so desperately now to dream because now it was the only way to see and be with him again. 

So eventually, lulled by the swaying motion of Greater Dog’s steps, she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything funny or witty to comment this time. It's late at night, I'm tired, and sad.   
> So bye.


	15. Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Nearly two weeks working on this series and its accumulated almost 200 hits, 14 kudos and dozens of comments. Thanks especially goes to Potato the Cookieholder who has proven to be a cheerful and thoughtful Beta Reader during this long experience. And thank you to everyone else who has stuck with me thus far and are equally as determined to see this tale to the end. Enjoy.

Undyne didn’t usually have lucid dreams. Most often when she did realize she was dreaming, she would end up opening her eye by accident and waking up. When she realized this time, seeing herself seated across from Asgore in the dining room enjoying a cup of tea, she did everything in her power to make sure her eye was shut in the real world. 

Everything felt real from the warm fire in the fireplace, the air in the room, and his gentle humming as he enjoyed his tea. Even the tea felt familiar in both scent and taste – goldenflower tea. The only thing off was faintly feeling her eye being closed even though she could see everything. 

A pair of footsteps made her turn her head. It came from the kitchen, and now she saw a familiar figure exit the kitchen. A small figure roughly as tall as Sans was, with pale skin and a blue and purple striped shirt. The human. 

He didn’t even look back at her as he trotted by her and into the grey hallway. She stared after him for a long time, as if expecting him to come back. 

“I hope you aren’t upset with him.” 

Undyne flinched, almost opening her eye and waking up. She forced herself to tightly shut her eye in the real world. She faced Asgore whom she didn’t expect to speak up in her dream. It didn’t bother her, but she would have no objections to have simply enjoyed this moment for as long as she could make it last. 

“We both knew this was how this was going to end.” He said. “I knew, and he knew.” He gave her a sad smile. “You knew too, I bet.”

She wasn’t sure whether to respond or not. If she spoke, would she speak with her real mouth and wake herself up? 

“Not going to talk?” Asgore asked. “That’s alright. I enjoy the company.” 

He took another sip of his tea, his brow furrowing. He always did that when he didn’t like the temperature of his tea, she remembered. Sure enough, he waved a hand over the brew and more steam billowed from the cup. He sipped again, this time smiling in contentment. 

“You know, when I lost my two children those many years ago, I thought I’d never raise another child again.” He looked at her with an unmistaken expression of pride. “Truth is, we were both surprised after we first fought. I said I’d teach you how to fight, but I don’t think it was really even about that.” He shook his head. “No, I guess I might’ve said that because I wanted the chance to get to know you better. I suppose it might sound selfish of me to have wanted your company. I thought I was taking you on as my pupil; instead, I was actually taking you on as my daughter.”

He gave a deep chuckle and sipped his tea again. “If you only had white fur instead of scales, you’d probably pass for a Boss Monster.” He smiled and looked at her with pride. “But Boss Monster or not, your strength is something to aspire to. Not just your physical or magical strength, as impressive as they may be. No, what makes you unique is your heart. You are perhaps the only monster I’ve ever known who could effortlessly tread the line between stubbornness and determination. You refuse to forget about me, no matter how much it hurts you to remember.”

His smile faded. He looked at the fireplace across from them, still crackling with soft, warm intensity. “I am dead, Undyne. No amount of Determination, human souls, no power on Earth can change that.” He sighed. “It is sad, I know. I knew more than you do. It takes a long time to move forward, and it will feel like it will always hurt.” He smiled sadly and looked back at her. “But you are still alive. I can’t make you feel better or take all the pain away, nor can anyone else. You have to decide when you’re ready for that yourself. It will take time, and you have plenty of it to spend and cherish. Don’t be ashamed by what you’re feeling, not when you can feel it with friends and loved ones. Laugh with them. Cry with them. Live with them.”

Undyne’s eye felt wet. She didn’t want to reach to wipe it off for risk of leaving. She didn’t want to go. Somehow, she knew this was as close to being with Asgore again as she would ever be again. 

“Asgore…” she choked. She was careful to speak slowly, otherwise she risks waking by accident. “Is… any of this… real? Or is it all…” She searched for the right word. “In my head?” 

He smiled wider and chuckled louder. It sounded warm and cheerful the way he always was, so happy and comforting now that she wanted to ball in tears again. 

“Well of course it’s all in your head.” He explained. “But why should that mean none of this is real?”

Faint voices were heard above their conversation. It sounded distant, from millions of miles in fact. But she knew they were close and in the real world, trying to wake her up. 

“Seems like our chat’s almost over.” Asogore said. “That’s alright. That was all I wanted to say anyway. Except, just one thing before you go.”

She leaned forward, silencing the whole world for only a few seconds. The fire stopped crackling, she stopped breathing and her heart stopped beating. All was quiet, waiting to hear his final words to her. 

“I-”

Whatever he was going to say was snuffed out in the blink of an eye. Now he was gone, and she was sitting in a bar seat. She wasn’t alone, as next to her were several of her closest friends. All the veterans from the Canine Unit, Sans, and Papyrus, looking at her with concerned expressions. 

She felt the urge to cry again, but suddenly remembered what Asgore had said to her. Even if he had been a figment of her distraught imagination, she couldn’t help but feel she should follow his last words. 

So, in the company of her friends and loved ones, she cried again.

~

“Oh no, I’ve broken her!”

Papyrus was shouting hysterically as Undyne suddenly burst into tears. 

“Oh, please don’t cry.” He begged. “You’ll make me cry-“ he forced a powerful cough. “I mean, get something in my eyes.” 

“You have eyes?” Sans asked. 

“I didn’t know you had eyes.” Dogamy commented. 

“When did you get eyes?” Dogaressa asked. 

“Where are they?” Doggo asked. “I don’t see them.” 

“Woof!” Lesser and Greater dog joined in together. 

“Sans!” Papyrus shouted. “Stop your tomfoolery! You’re a terrible influence on our friends!” 

Too late. Once Undyne released a snort, she couldn’t stop herself from bellowing with laughter. 

“Undyne?” Papyrus asked. 

The bar/restaurant became filled with her uproarious laughter, unable to contain herself. She didn’t have any particular reason for doing so either. After everything she had been through over the past several days, the banter between her former guardmates was like a washing relief over her. 

“Maybe you did break her.” Sans suggested. 

Maybe she was broken, in a way. She was still crying a bit even as she howled with laughter. The dog unit looked the most confused of all, staring at her with wide eyes uncertainly. 

“I most certainly did not!” His certainty wavered as she wiped tears from her eye. He looked at her worriedly. “Did I?” 

She couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Shut up and come here you dorks!” 

With a sound combining a sob and a giggle, she stood up and grabbed the two skeletons by the scruffs of their necks and pulled them into a tight hug. The chairs   
they were seated on were knocked onto the floor. The dogs, excited by the rush of movement, all stood up at once and started barking playfully. Out of old habit,   
Undyne started rubbing the top of Papyrus’s head roughly. 

“Nyeh!” He cried in protest. “Don’t noogie the skeleton!”

“I’m not getting noogied, bro.” Sans couldn’t resist commenting. 

“Well get over here!” Undyne challenged. “Let’s fix that!”

“Nah.” He effortlessly slipped from her tight embrace and retreated to the bar stools over by Grillby. 

The fiery figure stared with polished specs at the ruckus the group were causing by now. He was a quiet man, but Undyne still couldn’t help thinking he was displaying remarkable patience. 

“He says don’t make a mess.” Sans translated. To this day, she wasn’t sure whether he could really understand Grillby through his silent postures and staring. 

Even so, their banter calmed down and they were back in their seats. Every dogs’ tail was wagging from their recent burst of activity and panting rapidly. Papyrus cringed when several wads of drool slipped onto the table. 

“I’ve never been so grateful not to have saliva.” 

Undyne cracked another wide grin. She even reached over to Lesser Dog, who was closer to her, and scratched him under his ears. He moaned blissfully in response to her touch, wagging his tail rapidly. The other dogs stared at the two of them jealously, except for Doggo, who was shifting his eyes the way he usually did. When she   
stopped, Lesser Dog yelped in gratitude. 

“So, feeling better?” 

It was Sans who asked, and she turned to see him return to sit next to his brother. He looked at her now curiously, smiling with a hint of worry in his eyes. Similar expressions were on everyone else’s faces, all of whom looking at her with the same question in mind. 

With everyone here with her now, she was. 

“Yeah.” She answered. “I’m better.”

She really was.

~

They continued sitting together for a long while. It was late in the morning, but Grillby had taken the liberty of keeping the Closed sign hung up on the front door. Sans said he did it so Undyne could unwind, but it was bad for business.

“You must’ve made an impression on him.” The skeleton commented. 

Whatever his reasons, she thanked the bartender for his kindness. Unsurprisingly, he gave no reply and returned to work. 

While they were engaged in banter between themselves, Undyne was carefully thinking about something that had been troubling her for a while now. The human whom she befriended and killed Asgore later had to have come from somewhere. Reports and records detail that he came from the Ruins. 

That had to have meant he met Toriel when he first came into the Underground, right? 

There was something to that likelihood that had her engrossed in thought. It was on the tip of her tongue yet just out of reach. Every time she was close to an answer, someone would interrupt her train of thought and ask if she was alright. She hated that; not only for the interruption to her train of thought but for her looking like   
she wasn’t alright. 

She was, and it was thanks to the goofballs she loved being with her right here. 

“You know Sans, I just realized something.” Papyrus suddenly said. “When you used to sneak off to the door on the edge of Snowdin, sharing jokes with that stranger from inside, was that the queen?” 

“Yup.” He answered nonchalantly. 

The taller skeleton frowned. “Darn. That means my own lazy brother is getting along better with the Queen than I am.” He raised his arms up in surrender. “What has the world come to!?”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Sans insisted. “She loves you. I’ve told her plenty about how cool you are.” 

Papyrus appeared touched and appreciative of that. “R-really?” If skeletons could blush, Undyne thought he might well be doing so now. “She thinks I’m really cool?” 

“The coolest.” Sans answered. 

She realized something during their discussion. “You talked with Toriel before?” She asked the shorter skeleton. 

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t know her name til she came out and became Queen again. I hadn’t talked to her through the door for about a few weeks though.”  
Sounded like it wasn’t long before the human left the Ruins, she thought. She stroked the bottom of her scaled chin thoughtfully. A lot of things seemed to happen   
right after Asgore died:

The seventh human fled the underground with six human souls, Toriel came out of hiding and claimed the vacant throne, she decreed peace toward humanity and disbanded the Royal Guard, a lot of things fell together neatly. Suddenly she wasn’t so upset she had tried to kill Toriel before. 

Rather, now she was almost disappointed she hadn’t. 

“Is something on your mind?” Papyrus asked. 

She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Yeah…” 

Should she tell them? What will they think? If she’s wrong, it doesn’t affect only her if she gets the idea into their heads. But if she’s right…

“Fill us in, boss.” Sans insisted. 

Screw it, she thought. She trusted these guys. If she spoke her thoughts aloud, they could help her figure whether she was crazy or not. Only one way to find out. 

She leaned forward so that everyone could hear her clearly. 

“I think Toriel had Asgore killed.” She said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the immortal words of M. Night Shyamalan, "What a twist!"


	16. Knight of Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this done before, but I didn't like the look of it. Such is the way of the artist. I edited out the second half and came out with a result I feel much more comfortable with. I hope it was worth the slight delay.

Grillby dropped the glass he was cleaning. Everyone turned and saw him reach for a duster and dustpan, leaning behind the counter to clean the glass. 

“Wow, pretty sure that’s the first I’ve heard him swear.” Sans commented. He turned back to Undyne with a single eyebrow raised. “As for you, are you sure you’re alright? You’re talking like you’ve got ice in the skull. Don’t worry about it, happens to me all the time.” 

“Sans.” Papyrus scolded. “That’s no way to treat our friend.” 

His brother shrugged. Papyrus looked at Undyne with a mixture of worry and confusion. 

“Undyne,” He continued. “what makes you say that? Surely there must be a good reason for you to think… that.” 

He appeared conflicted, as if he neither wanted to believe nor disbelieve her. Sans looked like he was only humoring her the entire way. The canine unit clearly didn’t know what to think, cocking their heads to the side curiously. For the most part, these were the initial reactions she expected. 

“Okay look,” she began. “I know it sounds crazy.”

“Yup.” Sans chided in. 

“But the more I think of it,” Undyne continued while giving the skeleton a wary glare. “it makes sense.” Sensing the obvious skepticism in the room, she went on to explain her reasoning. “I mean, up until a couple weeks ago, everyone thought she was dead. A human leaves the Ruins, kills Asgore, and she happens to show up just in time to take his place? Is that supposed to be a giant coincidence?” 

“Sure.” Sans answered with a shrug. 

This time, Papyrus turned to scowl at his brother. But it didn’t last long, as the uncertainty was evident on his face. He turned back to Undyne. 

“Well, sure it sounds… convenient.” He admitted. “But… why would she want to have Asgore killed? Weren’t the two married?”

There was a silent pause after his questions. Both Undyne’s and Sans’s eyes slid to the side, unwilling to answer at first. Finally, with a sigh, she was the one to speak up. 

“Toriel… didn’t like him.” She answered. It was probably what made her most confident in her theory. Everything clicked into place because of her motivations. It all made sense. 

“So what if she didn’t?” 

Everyone turned to Sans, who had suddenly spoken up. There was a faint shaking to his tone and a hint of anger. It was unlike anything they had heard from him up until now. 

“So what if she didn’t like the guy?” He asked again. “I don’t like a lot of people, and a lot of people don’t like me. That doesn’t give me reason to kill someone, and if someone wants to kill me cause they don’t like me…” he shrugged. “screw ‘em.” 

Undyne eyed him carefully. She could easily detect the anger bubbling inside of him. It might have been a low boil, but a boil nonetheless. It was obvious he was angry at the mere suggestion the queen had done wrong, eager to defend her against the accusation. Perhaps too eager. 

He was hiding something. 

“What did she ask you to do?” 

Sans flinched. He stared at her in shock, his usual grin shaking precariously. It wasn’t confusion on his face, which was almost as good as a confession in her experience. 

“The heck are you talking about?” He feigned in ignorance. 

But it was too late, he knew; she could see it written on his face. She was onto something. She leaned closer to him now, glaring at him with her one eye. As expected, he looked away guiltily. 

“What did she ask you to do?” She asked again. 

Again, his silence was more incriminating than if he immediately denied it. 

“Sans?” 

He looked up and saw Papyrus was looking at him worriedly. 

“Sans, what’s wrong?” He asked. “What is Undyne talking about?” 

He looked away again, as if he suddenly found something on the floor fascinating. 

“Sans, why won’t you talk to me?” 

By now, Undyne didn’t need to interrogate him further. His brother was doing it all by himself. She knew if she couldn’t convince him to peep, his brother would. A part of her thought it was a cheap, dirty tactic. 

But the other part wanted answers. 

“She…” Sans released a long sigh. “She asked me to look after the kid.” He looked at Undyne while he answered. “I promised her I would protect the next kid who left the Ruins.” He shrugged and his grin became wider. “What can I say? She was a nice lady, and it was just too hard to say no to her. I…”

He sighed again. He looked pleadingly at Undyne now. “What do you want from me? To agree with you? To confirm your little theory about her? Hehe. Sorry, Boss, but I won’t help you feel better about your decision.” The lights of his eye sockets were gone for a moment before coming back. “So, if you’re gonna do what I know you _wanna_ do, you can drop the political theory. I’m not an idiot, and neither is anyone else here.” 

“Sans, what are you talking about?” Papyrus asked. 

Sans grinned. “Do you wanna tell them?” He asked. “Or should I?”

Undyne eyed him warily, finding his tone much too cocky for his own good. 

“Oh please,” she regarded him. “you seem to have everything figured out.” That grin was quickly pissing her off. “Fuck you, Sans. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

Papyrus recoiled at her language, while the Canine unit cocked their heads curiously at the foreign words. Sans merely shrugged and Grillby kept on wiping his clean   
mug. 

“A guy as lazy as me has had plenty of time doing nothing.” He replied. “And when I’m not doing anything, if I’m not asleep that is, I notice things. Lots of things that   
tell me things just by the expression your wearing. For instance…” 

He stared for a while at Undyne’s face, studying it like a work of art. “That expression you’re wearing – that’s the expression of someone who’s in a lot of pain, and looking for someone, _anyone_ other than yourself, to blame it on.” He raised an eyebrow slyly. “Am I wrong?” 

Undyne shook trying to control her anger; trying not to punch this delicate skeleton in his sly, grinning mouth. She didn’t for two reasons: she knew he wouldn’t survive even a single hard punch, and he was right. The latter angered her to a high degree. She couldn’t say anything that could disprove him, because he was right. 

She hated him for that, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. 

“You know what? Fine!” She pushed herself and stood from her seat. “I don’t need you, or anyone else,” she added while sweeping her glare across Papyrus and the   
Canine unit. “to believe me.” She brought her glare back to Sans. “Without Asgore, she’s the most powerful monster underground. What’s stopping her from going too   
far one day? Today it’s peace with humans, tomorrow she’ll have us all crawling on all fours begging for our lives at their feet like beasts!”

She stomped toward the door, leaving behind a trail of cracks on the hardwood. 

“Grillby says to take it easy on the floorboards!” Sans called to her. 

She ignored him and swung the door open, letting in a gust of chill, frozen air. 

“Wait, Undy-“

Papyrus’s call was shut with a slam. She let go of the door handle, seeing a few tiny dents on the brass material. For a moment, she felt bad and wanted to apologize for the damage. Then resurfacing anger dismissed the idea, opting instead to walk toward Sans’s house. 

She kicked the mailbox labeled “Sans,” breaking the post in half. A flurry of unopened letters erupted from the box as it landed on the snow, mostly bills and   
junkmail. She was tempted to cause more damage but stopped when she remembered Papyrus lived in that house too. 

Still overfilled with pent up anger, she roared at the top of her lungs. 

After the echoing roar, she felt exhausted. She wanted to cry again; it was just so easy. But her hands clenched defiantly. She’s shed enough tears, alone and with others alike. She was tired of just _feeling_. She couldn’t keep this up for the rest of her life. 

It had to end; it had to end with Toriel. And she had to do it alone.

~

“Sans, did you hear that?”

Papyrus had been kneeling next to the cracked floorboard, assessing the damage with Grillby. Shortly after Undyne had left, a thundering roar erupted from outside.   
Without a doubt, it came from her. 

Sans was the only one who hadn’t moved from his seat since she left, continuing to lie in a reclined, relaxed position. He could’ve appeared he was sleeping were it not for his lack of snoring. 

“Pretty sure I _felt_ that.” He answered. 

Papyrus stared out the large window of the bar. His friend was out there, angry and upset and probably freezing. She was obviously going through a lot on her own, but no one was coming to help her. Not even he. 

“Why did you treat her like that?” He asked. He turned pleadingly toward his brother, who now had one eye socket open. “She’s our friend and she really needs our help.” 

Sans shut his eye socket again. “We already saved her from freezing to death out there. I’m not humoring her just cause she’s decided she has an ax to grind with the most powerful monster in the underground.”

“That’s exactly why we _should_ help her!” Papyrus protested. “I don’t know anything about these ulterior motives or selfish reasoning you seem to think she has, but now she thinks she’s completely alone.”

“Welp, that’s her problem.” His brother replied. 

What was going on with him? He’s never acted this way before. Sure, he’s as lazy as a crippled rock, but he wouldn’t throw his friends under the bus. 

Papyrus looked at the others, the Canine unit, who looked similarly worried. Lesser Dog pouted toward the door, moaning the loudest among the others. The dog seemed to embody his own soul right about now. 

What kind of friend was he?

~

Undyne’s reflection stared at her from the polished chest-plate. It had only been a few weeks since she’d last worn her armor, but already rust had covered the heavy metal. Of course, it didn’t help that she left it in the ashes of her burnt home.

Polishing it up by the pond had been a grueling effort. She knew it would be worth it protecting her. Getting through Hotland would be a chore, but she would be fine as long as she moved quickly. There was only one place she needed to go. 

And there was a strong chance she wouldn’t be going back anyplace else afterward. 

“Strange to be polishing your armor.” 

She didn’t flinch even at Gerson’s sudden arrival. She was too focused on her task ahead, and the task she would have to undertake afterward. 

“Fixing to fight a war?” He asked. “Or have you run out of mirrors?”

There was nothing for her to say. If he somehow knew exactly what she was up to, which wouldn’t surprise her if he did, nothing either of them could say would change anything. She was going to start her war with or without his approval. Even if she had to break both of their hearts to do so. 

“You know, armor is a very curious thing.” Gerson suddenly commented. “Full plate armor weighs more than sixty pounds, but with it distributed around the whole body, a good warrior’ll hardly notice it. Course, it doesn’t keep you completely safe. For one, the elements will hit you til you feel like a walking oven or refrigerator. 

“And there are some weapons that won’t care too much about the armor either. Whether its heavy polearms or fire magic, it may protect you but not by much.” Now that sounded very much suspiciously like he knew. “Course, when such threats arrive…”

Undyne heard him grunt behind her, as if he were lifting a moderately heavy object. 

“…you carry one of these.” 

This time she did flinch when a large hunk of metal landed with a thud a couple feet away from her. She turned to face Gerson, but he was already walking away, back toward his shop and home. 

Curious, she turned to the object he had thrown to her. A large, metal disk the shape of a kite with the edges rounded like an oval. A kite shield, she recognized. The front was painted with purple paint and etched with the deltarune symbol. She stood up and lifted the shield, instantly noticing its weight. A quick tap to the front revealed it was solid metal, highly durable and particularly heavy. 

She checked the other side, seeing the handle and strap she was supposed to hold it with. It was padded and comfortable to hold, yet firm enough to handle the shockwave of any incoming attack. What caught her eye was a piece of paper taped next to the handle. She pulled it out and read the handwritten message. 

_“Used this during the war. Reckon it’s yours now. That armor will help keep you safe, but you’ll keep yourself and others protected with this. I won’t try to stop you, lord knows I couldn’t even if I tried. Just promise me you’ll come back safely. I’ve seen enough death to last several lifetimes, and you’re probably the best thing that’s happened in all of them. Despite everything, he would be proud of you. I sure am._

_-Gerson”_

She smiled at the message, clutching it close to her chest. She folded it neatly and stuck it inside her pocket. Afterward, it was short work to finish polishing the remaining plates. 

She donned her polished armor, feeling the familiar weight against her scales. Once the last of her straps was tightened, she lifted her new shield and strapped that to her back with the sling. Through the narrow slits in her visor, she saw a familiar face in the pond. 

Undyne, Knight of the Monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUH! duh-duh-duh-duh-duh DUH! duh-duh-duh-duh-duh DUH! duh-duh-duh-duh-duh duh-duh duh-duh-duh-duh DUH!  
> *For those who cannot translate, Spear of Justice*


	17. Fight to the Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay y'all, I've been distracted these few days. By the way, it's hard to imagine seeing yourself with over 220 hits when starting a project with no real goals in mind. So, to all those who read what I've worked on and support my efforts, thank you all so much. Especially Potato, thank you. Hope y'all enjoy.

It was a long walk to New Home for Undyne. Carrying her new shield and wearing her freshly polished armor on top of getting ready for what was to come, she was already exhausted. She had opened the visor to her helmet by the time she reached Hotland, keeping it open so she could breathe easier and see better. 

A few monsters noticed her approach, mostly when she had to cross MTT Resort. But she kept on going forward, ignoring them even as they called out to her or greeted her. When she made it to New Home, she took the elevator, avoiding the Royal house on her way to the Throne Room. 

She didn’t even stop to admire the beauty in the Golden Hall. As a child, she used to be enraptured by the golden rays from the window panes. Even in her more mature years, she would often slow her walk to take in the sights and atmosphere before moving on. 

Today she had gone through without slowing down. 

Undyne hadn’t rushed or exerted significant force during her trail, and her armor and shield were hardly any burden for her to carry. Yet her heart was pounding in her chest and her breaths were deeper and more frequent. It got worse the closer to the Throne Room she came. 

What she was about to do was treason, betrayal to the very thing she swore to uphold years ago. The moment she stepped into the Throne Room the way she was now, her chance of turning back would be gone. Toriel has proven to be merciful and understanding; it would be possible for her to turn a blind eye if she abandoned her intentions. 

But what would her life be like serving under he rule? Serving under Asgore, there was always hope and the goal of freedom, something they had come so close to achieving. Now, with Toriel’s new laws and decrees, there would be no moving forward for their kingdom. Monsterkind would be trapped without any possibility of escape. 

This was for the best – at least, that was the justification she told herself all the way through her journey. 

When Undyne arrived at the Throne Room, her heart cracked at the sight of the corridor. The floor was covered in soil with ash scattered across the room. A throne she recognized as Asgore’s was lying in the back corner of the room, the once fine fabric and cushioning burnt to black ash. In place of it in the center stood a less massive throne, but equally impressive. Seated on it was the queen herself, Toriel Dreemurr. 

Seeing the queen seated in her throne, surrounded by the ash of the once beautiful garden, made her feel hatred for the Queen. She’d be lying if she claimed this wasn’t the least bit personal, despite the other justifications she told herself before coming here. But seeing Toriel seated there made her furious. 

And now, her chance to turn back was gone. 

She took a step forward, feeling the soft soil press down under her feet. Toriel stared back with ember-red eyes, silently appraising the newcomer. She didn’t look at all surprised to see her the way she was – dressed and armed for battle – rather, she looked disappointed that she had come that way. Almost, if Undyne could admit it, sorry for her. 

She stopped several meters from the queen, where she remembered the circle of golden flowers would have been. She reached behind her to strap on her shield; the weight was unfamiliar but comforting. Her palm reached to the side, channeling power in the blink of an eye before a blazing blue spear materialized in her hand. 

The spear’s tip pointed at the queen. 

“Queen Toriel Dreemurr,” she spoke. “you are unfit for leadership. Relinquish your throne or face destruction.”

It felt comforting to speak with authority, making it feel as though her actions were entirely justified. It was only a small comfort, however. 

The queen remained silent for a time, continuing to stare with those merciless eyes. She could swear they stared into her own soul, and she fought the urge to back away defensively. Any weakness now would be deadly, she knew. Now, her fate was entirely rested on Toriel. 

Finally, the queen spoke. 

“I hoped you wouldn’t have come to me like this.” Her tone was emotionless and grim. “Gerson told me all about you, how close Asgore was to you.” Saying his name made her scowl only for an instant before reverting to her regal expression. “And someone else informed me you were spreading rumors that I was somehow responsible for his death. That I had planned his murder for my own benefit.” 

Undyne felt another wide crack where her heart was. If the queen knew about what she had said, it could only have meant she had been sold out. She guessed it was Sans, but even anyone else was too much to bear. 

She had been betrayed, which meant she really was alone. 

“Undyne, I have done nothing to deserve any of this.” The queen continued. “All I want is for peace to reign on this kingdom, to go back to the way things were before…” she looked away with her shoulders slumped. “before I lost my children.” 

Her expression mellowed, transforming into a plea. “Please, you must understand; I am not your enemy. I wish you would-“

“Stop.” Undyne interrupted. “Just stop.”

Listening to the queen had made her sick. 

“You don’t get it,” She continued. “I _hate_ you." 

Toriel’s eyes widened, shocked at her dangerous, spiteful tone. While listening to the queen, when she saw those pleading eyes stare at her, it made her furious. She remembered when her hands were clenched around her throat before, in the heat of sudden rage. Now, suddenly, she thought she should have followed through.

“Why?” The queen asked. 

She was genuinely confused; Toriel really couldn’t understand where all her hate came from. And now that single word question was asked, it was all coming to Undyne at once. 

“You blame all of your problems on _him_.” She began, her tone shaking with anger. “Hell, you can barely even stand to say his name. Say it; say his name. The man who taught me, the man who raised me, the man who you hate even though he was the kindest person I could ever have met. What. Was. His. Name?”

Her magic boiled deep down like a geyser. It threatened to annihilate the queen in a single blow, to take all of her rage on the cause of it all. But despite how furious she was, she wasn’t barbaric. 

She couldn’t thoughtlessly murder his wife. 

“Asgore.” Toriel answered. “You misguided child, you did not know him. You do not realize what he’s done in the past and are blinded by a false image. Were the six souls formerly in your possession not proof enough?”

“You could have just as easily stopped those children from ever meeting him.” Undyne retorted. The queen flinched as though she had been struck. “You could have left the Ruins at any time and told him to stop. Instead, you lock yourself away til everyone thinks you’re dead! 

“Asgore wasn’t perfect, he never claimed to be. He made mistakes and he hated himself for it. You think his actions are irredeemable, that there was nothing left but a bad person in him. If that’s true,” She glared at her defiantly. “then it’s _you_ who never knew him! I won’t let you desecrate his soul anymore! Either stand down or en   
guarde!”

She shut her visor and held her spear over her shoulder, ready to hurl like a javelin. They stared each other down as the ultimatum was finally said aloud. Within the small space of her helmet, she could hear her heart pounding like a drum and her breaths inhaling and exhaling like a hurricane. 

If the queen didn’t kill her today, the anticipation surely would. 

For a moment, the queen remained seated with her blank expression. Then it changed into something she didn’t expect: a slight smile. 

“You do remind me a bit of him.” She commented. “You have the same eye he did that day.” She slowly rose from her throne. “Which is why I must stop you.” 

Her eyes glowed brighter; immediately, Undyne felt the entire room become warmer. There wasn’t a single ball of fire alit, yet the queen was able to release this much heat effortlessly. The intensity made her simultaneously cautious and envious. 

But she readied herself as a dozen balls of flame appeared in the air around Toriel, orbiting her like tiny glowing suns. Her shield was on guard in front of her while her spear was pulled back, ready to throw at a moment’s notice. 

This was it. No turning back. 

She made the first move and hurled her spear.

~

The shining blue spear soared toward it’s target within a second. In the blink of an eye, one of the balls of flames flew in its path. The spear exploded instantly, rendering the attack worthless.

Before the smoke cleared, more bulleted their way towards Undyne. She barely had time to cover her whole body with her shield. The first blast sent a shockwave up her arm, as if a car hit her. Then another and subsequent blasts she bared her teeth to withstand. On top of the shockwave, each blast unleashed a massive heatwave against her, and released a cloud of smoke that choked her lungs. 

Once the firestorms had stopped, she unlatched her helmet and removed it. _Gonna have to fight without this_ , she thought. It didn’t add enough protection to make up for the difficulty in breathing, and she would probably need to see better too. She threw the helmet away, crouching low to breathe easier. 

The smoke started to clear and she advanced forward. She started to march forward, her shield still held in front of her. But the moment she was outside the cloud of smoke, another wave of fireballs bombarded against her. 

“Shit!” She cursed as she braced herself crouching low, coughing from the smoke clouds choking the life out of her. 

_If this keeps up, I won’t get anywhere near her._

The moment the bombardment stopped, she rolled to the side, running as fast as she could out of the smoke. Once she was out, she gasped for fresh air. Only to turn to see the Queen had already summoned another dozen fireballs ready to launch. 

She gritted her teeth and summoned a spear in her hand with her shield held in front of her. The first ball soared, and she threw her spear in time to intercept it.   
Direct hit! Her adrenaline reminded her she wasn’t safe yet, and she summoned another half-dozen spears behind her. She sent them out, sailing through the cloud of smoke toward their target. 

She heard four explosions on the other side, the rest were obviously coming toward her. She stepped to the side to avoid one, then leapt to evade another. The explosion of the last one knocked her off balance, sending her sprawling several meters to her right. 

Laying on the soft ground, she was tempted to stay there and rest her broken, scorched body. Adrenaline got her back up, and she sprinted toward Toriel as fast as she could. The queen was summoning another volley of fireballs, but Undyne had already summoned a dozen spears of her own behind her. She launched her spears toward the queen, hoping she would either be wounded or be forced to dodge. 

Toriel extended her palm outward and a dome of flame burst in front of her. The spears faded upon impact, leaving no damage to her. But her own fireballs were perfectly intact and soared towards their target. She braced herself behind her shield again, the impact occurring faster and more rapidly from how close she was. 

The shield took on ten blasts, unmoving like a stone fortress. But the eleventh knocked her shield just far away from the front of her body, and the last one was a direct hit. A burst of intense heat erupted against her chest, and the shockwave spread through her entire body. Her body was flung backward, her ears ringing while she soared. She landed with a sideways roll against the soil, the heat almost causing her scales to sizzle. 

A few plate pieces of her armor had been torn from the impact of falling – her right pauldron and greaves. The rest of her armor was scorched with a black veil, and her chestplate was noticeably bent, explaining why it was hard for her to breathe. She assessed her situation and growled in frustration. 

She tore whatever pieces of armor she could before the fight could continue, tossing them aside like scalding hot pieces of trash. The chestplate was disfigured and would take time to remove, too much for her to accomplish. When she was ready, she only felt slight relief at the absence of weight and heat. 

It would make a difference, she realized. 

“Is that all you’ve got!?” She challenged. 

Toriel didn’t respond as she summoned another volley of fireballs. Undyne charged forward with her shield raised. 

She was fast and strong, but the queen had the advantage of range and distance. Undyne evaded and blocked as many attacks as she could, hoping to slowly gain distance. Each time she came close, however, the pressure became too intense and she was forced to withdraw. 

She figured the queen lacked in mobility, so she could gain an advantage if she could close the distance. During her advances, she tried launching her own volleys of spears to assist her. Although the spears would do no harm so long as her opponent could use her Flame Shield, any distraction could turn the tide. 

The fight was beginning to look one-sided. Undyne had suffered from major burns in several parts of her scales, and her broken chestplate was simultaneously crushing and burning her. Meanwhile, she had yet to land a single attack on her opponent. Not even her yellow Hornet Spears were enough to distract her – spears that orbited around their target before impaling them. 

The damage was already done, and if she didn’t make a change soon, she’d die before making a difference. 

Her next sprint was Fight or Flight. Once more, a horde of fireballs threatened to intercept her. But already, a horde of spears was being summoned and hurled in the blink of an eye. She put out all the stops on her attack, firing from the ground, ceiling, and throwing several Hornet Spears. 

Toriel flinched, realizing the attacks were coming from too many angles for her shield to completely block. One by one, her fiery dome blocked incoming attacks from in front of her while she narrowly avoided the rest. So she _could_ dodge, almost as good as he could. 

Almost; one spear impaled her arm. Undyne focused her magic on that spear, making it so it kept her target in place. The queen soon realized her trapped position and sent out her volley of fireballs out at her. No time to dodge, she held the shield in front of her and dug her foot into the soil. Each blast threatened to knock her back like before, like a single leaf hanging on against a hurricane. 

But she stood strong, surrounded by a large cloud of smoke. She undug herself and dashed forward. She burst from the cloud and met the queen within a few meters, shock in her eyes by her sudden appearance. 

Another spear materialized in her palm, ready to strike her foe once and for all. 

The queen held her palm out, and the shield stormed in front of her again. 

Undyne staggered, feeling a sudden intense heat from in front of her. Dammit, it’s made of real fire! She realized now the technique wasn’t only useful as a defensive maneuver. She’d played her way into a trap. 

The spear locking Toriel’s arm snapped, fading into nothing in an instant. Immediately, she walked forward with her palm still outstretched, bringing the scorching dome closer to her. 

Undyne hastily backed away, placing the shield between her and the queen. But with how close they were, the shield was becoming too hot to hold for much longer, and she couldn’t get away in time with the extra weight. 

“Dammit!” She ditched the shield and made a beeline behind her. Heat flared at her exposed back, warming up the already boiling chestplate. 

Her lungs felt like they were boiling and her entire body flaring with exhaustion. Before long, she collapsed onto one knee, wheezing against the ground. Slowly, she   
turned around toward where the queen would be, now standing where she was before. 

So much for that, she thought. 

She was exhausted, lost her armor, shield, she doubted she could pull off another intense attack like she had earlier, and all she had to show for it was a tiny scratch   
on the queen’s arm. A wise or cowardly person would probably either retreat or give up. But Undyne was neither. 

Instead, despite everything, she grinned widely. 

“This is the best fight of my life!” She cried. 

Toriel flinched, staring uncomprehending back. Her expression then became appalled. 

“Is this some kind of game to you?” She asked. 

Undyne shook her head, still smiling. “No, it’s just…” it was tough for her to catch her breath, exhausted and overheated as she was. “I’m relieved.”   
A question was forming on the queen’s face. She continued. “When I used to train with Asgore, the one thing I used to always think was, ‘I wonder what fighting him   
for real would be like.’” She gave a soft chuckle. “And well, now I know.”

_It was liberating_ , she thought. Fighting an opponent she didn’t have to hold back against was fulfilling. The human, while he was tough, refused to fight back. And she never could convince Asgore to spar with her for real, it took a lot just to convince him to throw an attack at her one time. Papyrus, while he was also tough and a master with his own magic, wasn’t interested in giving her a good fight either. 

Ironic that the person she hated most in the world was giving her what none of her closest friends and family could ever give her. 

“I see.” Toriel said. 

Her palm stretched outward once more, channeling another attack. Undyne braced herself; blocking her attacks now was completely out of the question. Her shield was far beyond her reach, and she could tell her body couldn’t handle more than one direct blast, if even that much. Even dodging sounded like a chore in her condition, but it was her only tactic left. 

“I’ll have to end this then.” The queen continued. 

A spark of blue light burst from her palm. An instant later, Undyne was engulfed in blazing blue flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I've written a Fight sequence. What did you think? Too much or just right?   
> Also, fun fact, Toriel's heat shield was inspired by Titanfall 2, an ability from Scorcher. That is a fun game and Scorcher is a very unique, fun Titan to play as.


	18. Blue Fire, Red Weapon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These things are coming out a little slower, but I'm persistent. Rome wasn't built in a day after all, not that I'm building Rome. Hope y'all enjoy.

At first, the blue flames were gently licking Undyne’s body. It didn’t even feel hot or warm, but like air. If anything, it felt cool. 

Then she moved her right arm and heat flared instantly. In the blink of an eye, she felt like she was boiling in the magma in Hotland. Just as suddenly, as soon as she stopped moving, she was cool again. 

“You know what that is, don’t you?” She heard Toriel ask her. “A blue attack. Move, and you’ll suffer. As long as you stand still, you’ll be safe.” 

Of course. She wanted to stomp her foot or even clench her fist, but even that proved to be painful for her. She had walked straight into a trap, after working so hard during this fight. The queen was probably waiting for her defenses to drop so she could be trapped like this. 

She should have realized the queen had a technique like this but didn’t stop to consider it. She acted rashly, and now she suffered the consequences. Only, now that she was trapped the way she was, it begged the question:

What was going to happen now?

“Yield.” Toriel demanded. “You’ve fought valiantly, but you cannot win. I have no desire to kill such a brave soul.” 

The blue flames obscured her vision, and the sound of fire crackling surrounded her. Was this really happening? Was the queen really offering mercy? After everything?

“Just swear to me your loyalty,” she continued. “and I will take your word and set you free. Abandon this errand of yours and go home.”

Just like that. Undyne had the choice to take back her insubordinate actions, to let everyone forget any of this had ever happened. She could live out her life under   
Toriel’s reign, perhaps even without them ever meeting again. Everyone would probably be better off, and she would be alive. 

But then what was the point of any of this?

“No.” She said plainly. 

She wasn’t sure if the queen could even hear her answer, but it was answered more to herself than anything else. She couldn’t walk away from this, not after all she did, everything she said. Up until now, she did it all on the belief that it was for him: Asgore. It wasn’t fair, she realized, to have his name be butchered for mistakes in   
the past. The queen’s decrees and laws were fair, and if she were anyone else, Undyne probably could forgive her and be her most loyal follower. 

But she wasn’t someone else. Whether she liked it or not, this was personal. She may have made it personal, but that was how things were between them. As long as she had any say in it, it could only end in either two ways: She’d take the crown or die trying. 

“That is a shame.” Toriel seemed to have heard her answer after all. Her response made her sound like a disappointed mother scolding her child. “Well, no matter. You can stay there until your stubbornness breaks. I can live for however long it takes.”

She was right, of course. As a Boss Monster, she was immortal, capable of living forever at least by age. Undyne had no such advantage, but even if she did, she didn’t like the idea of their fight ending as an eternal stalemate between them. She really did enjoy their fight up until this point. 

Standing trapped in the fire gave her time to reflect and admire the blue color. The flames danced in front of her eye, giving her a gentle, cool touch. It immediately changed to agony each time she moved or twitched, before switching back when she stood still again. She was exhausted and standing still for as long as she did was starting to make her legs start to wobble. Each violent shake sent burning agony against her scales until she forced herself to hold still for another few moments. 

Rage was the only thing that gave her strength to keep standing. Because she knew, as unlikely as it was, that the flames could be extinguished at any moment. If that ever happened, she would be ready to sprint toward her foe and finish what she started after the queen burnt this garden. She could still feel the ashen soil beneath her boots, remnants of what was once so beautiful and pure. Just like he was. 

He was a kind, gentle man. Friend to all, and father to her. The fact Toriel despised him, the very idea that anyone would be loathed to utter his name, disgusted   
Undyne. What would the queen say to him if he were here right now? 

What would _he_ say? 

She realized something, her flinch enough to spark another flare of pain. Asgore would stand where he was, while his wife berated him over his actions and disowned him. He would stand and take all of it, because he would believe he deserved them. He would be sad, but he wouldn’t be angry. 

He would never hurt his wife. 

The rage she felt was fading and her legs were almost ready to wobble again. How could she have felt so furious? She was ready to kill the queen if she had the chance. What if he were alive and he found out? Even if only his spirit were watching them, the very idea of breaking his heart broke hers. He deserved better than that, even if he was a total wimp. 

She smiled; maybe it was time for her to be one for a change. 

“Nyeh heh heh!”

That voice; it couldn’t be. 

“What are you-“

Toriel’s voice is cut off by a series of enthusiastic barks. She heard a summoned series of attacks flying from behind her. In a flash, the blue flames fade. 

Instinctively, she falls on her knees, grateful for the chance at rest. Her whole body felt like lead while her exposed scales stung from several minor burns. She wanted to sleep, but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever wake up again afterward. 

“Undyne!” 

She heard a pair of boots rush over to her and lean down next to her. A bony arm wrapped around her and helped her up. She winced from the effort but saw her savior. 

“Papyrus?” It stung her slightly to speak. “What are you doing here, you bonehead?” 

The tall skeleton was panting too; how he seemed exhausted without a heart or lungs was beyond her. “Sorry, Undyne.” He said in between breaths. “The… elevator was… occupied. Had to… run…” 

Another half dozen pair of breaths panted rapidly, barking excitedly in between. They rushed over to her and licked her affectionately. Their wet tongues stung her burnt flesh, but the saliva was beginning to cool and even soothe her pink flesh. A shiver went up her body at the slobbery embrace, responded only by another series   
of barks and yips. 

“Thanks.” She managed to say. 

The others yipped excitedly, even Papyrus. The Canine Unit always set an example for him, she remembered. 

She looked back at Toriel, still glaring at them from across the room. The queen showed no sign of attacking yet, but she was still extremely dangerous. If she launched an attack at their group…

“Get out of here!” Undyne growled. She tried to shove her companions off her, only managing a weak slap against them. “Go home, that’s an order!” Terror made her desperate. She was prepared to die for her foolish venture, but not these people. None of these veterans or friends deserved it. Why had they come?

And why were they still here, dammit? 

“No.” It was Papyrus who spoke, now looking across at the queen himself. “Undyne, I’m not completely sure what’s made you so upset, or why you hate the queen enough that you might want to…” he paused. “…kill her.” 

He shook his head. “But she’s not a bad person, and I know you aren’t either! Even if you have a tendency to punch things, burn things, or snow wrestle me into the ground every time I’m not looking (which happens quite a lot, apparently). I’ve always wanted to be like you because you’re popular.” He turned to face her, sincerity in his eye sockets. “But now I want to be like you, because you’ve always believed in me. Even if…” he hesitated. “even if I haven’t always deserved it.

“So that’s why I believe in you.” He looked back at Toriel. “And I believe in you and in Asgore. Everyone can be a good person if they just try. I think Asgore’s tried really hard, and I know you can too. You can do a little better if you just try, I promise.” 

The queen stepped back as though wounded. Her expression was mellowed, staring uncomprehending back at the two of them. From where she was, Undyne could swear she even saw a tear in her eye. 

“You think I’m like _him_?” She asked. The grief transformed into anger. “You think that man has done _anything_ to make up for what he’s done? You know _nothing_.”

Undyne could see the attack coming before a fireball was summoned. 

“Move!”

Her exhausted body suddenly flared with power, pushing Papyrus off of her. The ball of fire was bulleting toward her, already a few meters away from impact. There was no time to react, so her body was moving itself entirely by instinct. She channeled power into her right palm and was already swinging backhanded as the spear was summoned. 

The fireball bounced harmlessly off her summoned weapon and sailed at the back corner of the room. It exploded far from anyone it could harm. Toriel looked back to face Undyne then gasped. Everyone else, she noticed, was staring at the glowing weapon in her hands as well. When she looked at it, she realized what the shock came from. It wasn’t a blue spear in her hands. 

She held a glowing, scarlet trident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, should I play Spear of Justice or Asgore's Theme?   
> Hmm.............
> 
> *Plays both at the same time.   
> This sounds awful, but worth it.


End file.
